


The Journal of Harley Quinn OR My Descent Into Madness

by harleyfquinn7



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 58
Words: 110,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25528105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleyfquinn7/pseuds/harleyfquinn7
Summary: Dr. Harleen Quinzel is a relatively new psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, and is about to start the most intriguing case of her career. She will fall down the rabbit hole of desire and psychosis, transforming herself into the Queen of Gotham City. In the Joker she finds all she has ever wanted and more. In herself she finds just how dark her desires can get. Daddy Dom/little girl BDSM HQxJ swinger AU
Relationships: Harley Quinn/The Joker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

I suppose it’s time to take my own advice. I’m constantly encouraging my patients to journal, yet I’ve never actually done it. Let me tell you a little about myself. 

My name is Harleen Quinzel. Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel. I am a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. The youngest ever hired, though not the newest hire. We’ve had a lot of turnover lately. One of the patients in maximum security … well, let’s just say there is good reason for him to be behind bars. Plenty of good reason for him to be housed in an asylum. One of the most vicious criminals Gotham City has ever seen, and he’s about to become my newest patient. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself. 

To say that my childhood was difficult would be an understatement. My parents were teenagers, both far too young and immature for the responsibility I represented. Mother was only 14 when she gave birth to me. Father was 19 and in prison for statutory rape. It turns out that the circumstances of my conception happened to be consensual, but Mother’s parents were furious when they discovered she had lost the “only thing about her that mattered” – her virginity; Mother was raised in a very strict Christian household. They brought Father up on charges within minutes of finding out in retaliation for his “ruining” their daughter. Upon authenticating her pregnancy, Mother was given two options – give the baby up for adoption and be allowed to remain at home, or keep me and leave. She was still a child herself, and should never have been forced to make such a decision alone. The man she loved was in jail, her parents were barely speaking to her, and her friends had all but abandoned her as teenage pregnancy was still mostly unheard of at that time… my heart aches whenever I envision that young girl all alone. Luckily for her, Father’s parents heard about the ultimatum she had been given and they reached out. They would take the baby and raise it. Mother was relieved and went through a healthy pregnancy. She gave birth with Father’s parents in the room, as her own refused to attend, and the doctors whisked me away before she even had a chance to hold me. I didn’t find out until I was an adult what happened to her after that, but she next went through a very severe depression. Her parents would only tell her to pray for forgiveness and Jesus’ healing, though there was a family history of mental illness for both of them. After begging for help and repeatedly being told her depression was born from her sins so the only help she needed was God, Frances “Frankie” Quinzel gave up hope. She hung herself before I was six months old. 

Father’s parents were not exactly what you would call warm and loving. They refused to give me their last name since Mother wasn’t Father’s legal wife, and so Mother’s last name went on my birth certificate. She gave me a name that started with H so there would be a tie to my grandparents, perhaps she wished it would be a connection for us. She gave me her name as my middle name so I would have a tie to her, even while we were apart. She didn’t know Harold and Henrietta would hate me so much I’d already have the connection of her last name. I think the fact that my name was hers only brought more hatred on their part. They treated me as a burden, often muttering that they had raised their babies and shouldn’t have to be raising grandbabies. I confronted them on it once when I was about 14, demanding to know why they had taken me if they didn’t want me. Harold stared me dead in the eye and said, “Ain’t nobody takin’ my blood away from family.” Don’t ask me, I don’t understand it either. 

Mother was one of their favorite topics to complain about. They called her a succubus and “that bitch who ruined my son.” Her name was never spoken, instead, they would say “ _your mother_ ” as if she were an epithet. But Father, now, he was an angel, a “poor misguided boy who fell to the charms of that vile temptress.” I was the family shame. My two aunts, both older than Father and married, tended to avoid me. They would let their eyes skip past at family functions, never failing to mention how much they missed their brother. Their children, my cousins, were told not to play with me and to stay away. Kids can be cruel at the best of times. But when their parents are actively encouraging ostracizing another child? When those same parents are muttering vile insults within earshot? The children learn that the “other” child is bad and worthless. They learn that cruelty of that “Other” is not only allowed, but expected. The vast imaginations of children allow for the invention of a level of torture, even from across the room, that my aunts and uncles couldn’t possibly fathom. They didn’t have to speak to me to play with my mind; they slid cruelty on like a warm comfy sweater, greeted torture like an old friend. It was so easy for them, so encouraged by the rest of the family that no one saw the darkness growing in them. I don’t know how this twisted view of how to interact with people deemed as “other” affected my cousins’ lives in society, but I can’t imagine it served them well. Eventually, as soon as I was old enough to be left alone, I was no longer brought to family gatherings. 

I craved affection. Any time I saw a parent doting on a child I felt a searing pang within. I remember clinging to my worn teddy bear at night, trying to pretend its little arms could reach all the way around me, as tears streamed from my eyes. One of my first memories is of telling Henrietta that I couldn’t wait to meet my daddy. Everything that I had seen on television and in movies told me that my daddy would love me and take care of me, and I just knew that as soon as my father was out of jail I would finally have that love that I desired. From behind me, Harold snapped in his gruff voice, “You don’t have a ‘Daddy,’ idiot. You have a Father. He was tricked into fatherin’ you, and ain’t nobody expect nothin’ else from him.” My little heart shattered and I burst into tears. Harold started yelling then, and didn’t stop until I was hiding up in my room. He hated when I did anything remotely childlike. If he caught me playing pretend, he would throw away my toys. When I confessed my fear of the dark, he removed all the lightbulbs from my bedroom and the hall outside. And whenever I would cry, he would start to scream. His favorite thing to yell was, “Grow up, Harleen!” Then, he would inevitably go on with, “The fuck kinda name is Harleen anyways. _Your mother_ was an idiot, and passed on her stupid genes to you. Dumbass rotten good for nothing.” You certainly don’t have to guess why I ached for affection. 

Henrietta tried to make up for all the negativity of my childhood in the only way she knew how – she enrolled me in gymnastics, just as she had done with my aunts. Not to be confused with actual caring. Henrietta hated me just as much as Harold and her daughters, evidenced by her daily habit of cursing Mother and spitting that she wished I’d never been born. But she was, after all, a mother herself, and she remembered how much my aunts had loved their classes. I think partly she just wanted me out of the house, but whatever her reasoning I excelled in the sport and spent all my free time practicing in the cold cement basement. Anyone who has ever done gymnastics knows that the cushioned floor at the studio is necessary to prevent injury. But there was no way Harold was going to “spend that kind of money to carpet a perfectly fine basement” so I practiced on cement. When it would inevitably cause my body to ache and bruise, I would go to my bedroom and read. If I wasn’t working on homework or household chores or practicing, I was reading. I craved knowledge the way a starving man craved sustenance. Libraries fed my addiction and I burned through hundreds of books in my youth. I was especially fascinated with the inner recesses of the mind and what it was that made us human. On that subject, there was never enough information to satisfy my thirst. 

In my teens I had my fair share of boyfriends. Looking back, I can say that I was trying to fulfill my need for love. But teenage boys are not equipped with the emotional maturity required to give me the kind of love I yearned for, and I was always left brokenhearted. No matter how shattered I’d been I always started the cycle again. I learned to trade sexual favors, and eventually sex itself, for what I thought was love. I was never pressured, but I certainly was never the first to bring it up. There was the rush, the endorphins, but never full enjoyment. Because I knew it wasn’t actually something I wanted. I craved loving care, tenderness, affection. But hormonal teenage boys are ruled by one thing, and I was giving it away freely. I was never single long but I was always heartbroken and lonely. 

Shortly after I turned 16, I came home to find Henrietta lying cold on the floor. She had suffered a massive coronary and had been dead for hours, but I was instantly filled with dread at the thought of being left alone with Harold and so I spent the next two hours desperately performing CPR. I don’t remember Harold coming home or him calling 911. I don’t remember the EMTs pulling me off of Henrietta or repeatedly screaming that I needed her. I don’t remember being checked into the psych unit of the local hospital. But I remember the doctors. I remember their kindness and the therapies. I remember starting medication and the way that my essence seemed to dim after that first pill. I became more subdued and calm. 

When I was finally sent home, I was not so pleasantly informed that gymnastics was canceled, as Harold never wanted to pay for classes in the first place. He’d only done it to appease his wife. Gymnastics had been my last possible connection to the only kindness I’d ever been given. My coach had just started me on aerial acrobatics and it was like I had discovered true love. Now that was gone too. He also told me that he noticed my change in demeanor, the docile quietness born of medications. I was going to be continuing them, and he was going to see if the doctor would increase them. Maybe he thought I’d be less trouble if I was completely catatonic. Maybe he thought a history of increasing meds would make it easier to get me shipped off somewhere. Maybe he was just so hateful he’d take any and every chance he had to spit on me. That last one is most likely in my opinion. 

I’d missed Henrietta's funeral due to being in the hospital, but I was there the following month when the family got together on a particularly hard day for Harold. I saw my extended family for the first time in years. I saw Father for the first time ever. He had been released from prison five years prior and had a long difficult road to find a job and apartment after getting out. I’d always thought that he would come for me when he was released from jail, something I never dared breathe to my grandparents. Turns out I reminded him too much of his “greatest mistake.” Apparently, I look just like Mother. I heard him talking with my aunts, all of them viciously bitter about how his life had been postponed, disrupted, nearly destroyed by “that” over there in the corner. It sounded like a conversation that had been discussed continuously, a never-ending spew of rage. But now, just look how wonderful things had become. “A new light,” he said, looking to his new wife and child, a little boy who could only babble “Dada.” I hadn't even been invited to his wedding, nor met any of his little family before that day. Father had taken a page from his sisters' books and avoided me. But he couldn’t avoid me in my “home” and so we eventually shared some very awkward small talk. 

I threw myself into my studies after losing my grandmother. My already good grades improved and I earned a full scholarship to college in Gotham City. Leaving the house I grew up in wasn’t difficult for me, as it finally rid me of Harold and his hatred, and I looked forward to life in the dorms. Shortly after my freshman year began, I learned what had happened to Mother. I found myself continually thinking of her and the pain she suffered. It led me to major in psychiatry and I have never worked harder than I did while working for my degree. There were many nights I skipped sleep for study. While my friends went to parties, I poured over textbooks. When my classmates were hooking up, I was writing my thesis. I was going to do everything I had to do to become the best doctor I could be. No one should have to suffer from mental illness; it’s a terrible plight that afflicts so many. And I was going to do everything I could to help those who were suffering. 


	2. Chapter 2

Immediately following my graduation from Gotham U I was hired at Arkham. And now I’ve been here for about nine months. My job isn’t always easy; in fact, there have been quite the number of times I’ve thought about quitting. But I can’t give up on my patients. I’ve heard heartbreaking stories in my sessions; things that have made my skin crawl and the breath whoosh out of me. I’ve seen the victories of progress made and the defeat of repeated episodes. I’ve mourned with the brokenhearted and burned with pride when I could declare a patient “cured” and fit to rejoin society. There is nothing better than that. The first time I watched a patient leave my care I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. It was what I had been working towards for years. In my mind, I pictured Mother smiling down on me. 

It happened about three months into my practice. Well, technically one month. I had spent my first two months at Arkham as an intern, then a trainee, then a junior psychiatrist. Just after completing my second month, I was given my first solo patient, a 2. (At work we have these classifications or more like levels of the intensity of a patient’s needs. 1-3 are the bottom rank, those who either came in with mild symptoms or those who had worked their way up through treatments. 4-6 are moderate. 7-9 are severe.) One month later my caseload increased to the point they had no choice to promote me to full psychiatrist, no longer under the supervision required at a junior level. I was taking over a number of cases for another psychiatrist who had, unfortunately, passed due to … how do I put this … well, mishandling a patient. I’ll get into that more later. There are two wings of the asylum, Minimum and Maximum security, separated by a security station that requires three different swipes of a keycard and a visual ID verification by a guard. The patients in Minimum are allowed visitation; once a week for the 4s and 5s, twice for the 3s, and three times a week for the 1s and 2s. It’s incentive for the patients to work their treatment plan and move up through these levels, ultimately achieving release home. Simple enough to understand, I think. When Dr. Sanjay died, I took on his low-level patients. One of these was a young mother of five who became hysterical when she learned she was pregnant again. Sanjay had been working with her three weeks when he passed. I saw her another five before she was released. It was an honor to work with her. It’s an honor to work with all my patients. I really do love what I do. 

After that young mother went home, I started getting mid-level patients. I was so nervous before my first 6; my first Max patient. I expected him to be different from the others I had worked with but was surprised to find that he was still just a person. Of course, I was then chastising myself for making such an unfair presumption and have sworn never to do it again. We’re all human. We all share the same drives. There’s nothing I’ve heard, from those not dissociated with reality, that I can’t honestly say I haven’t felt myself at one point. From loneliness to hatred, rage to despair. I’ve experienced all these things. It’s that humanity that unites us. Granted, I’ve never acted out in the way my patients have. 

In the past month, I’ve taken on two 7s and an 8. Tomorrow I start with my first … 10. No, probably higher. You could count to infinity and not find the level of this patient. He will certainly be the most trying case I’ll ever have. He’s been in Arkham almost as long as I have. I have yet to meet him, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know anything about him. Everyone in Gotham knows about the Joker. The Clown Prince of Crime and his gang of followers wreaked havoc on the city, his maniacal laughter often ringing out over the streets. It seemed as though every evening news anchors would be speaking of his latest exploits. Countless people were maimed or murdered at his bidding. Robberies, bombings, drugs, extortion … his reign was utter chaos. It only came to an end because of Batman and Robin, the crime-fighting duo of Gotham. They apprehended him and brought him to the police, who in turn sent him to Arkham. 

I think apprehended might be too kind of a word. They beat him bloody. He arrived at the asylum sans front teeth and required a completely new set. Sanjay decided the Joker needed the freedom to choose whatever teeth he wanted and now he has a mouth full of metal. Metal teeth. I’d question how he got insurance to foot the bill, but I’m sure it was Joker’s illicit deep pockets that supplied the gangster’s grill. 

He’s been through quite the number of psychiatrists. His file is extensive, as each new doctor charted their opinions and diagnoses. My boss, Dr. Alera Standness, also filled out a form detailing why each doctor was “taken off” this case. Sanjay was first. His last notes ended with the Joker having said he didn’t like the doctor. In the next session he was strangled. Dr. Jorje Diaz followed and lasted no more than a week. Joker didn’t like that Jorje’s name wasn’t pronounced with a hard J. Diaz’s neck was snapped in their third session. The third psychiatrist was Dr. Hemmings. Hemmings had a plan when he started. He asked no questions, but simply gave the patient room to talk about whatever he wanted, though he required he be handcuffed to the table, for safety. Eventually, he surmised, this would build trust and would result in honest communication when the good doctor finally began “his side of the conversation,” or so he’d put it. Arrogance was Hemmings’ downfall, and that hubris couldn’t be masked from the Joker. Two sessions into Hemmings’ digging and Joker beat him to death. He’s far more cunning than any of them gave him credit for. How he managed to get his hands on them is still unclear, and I’ve watched the silent security videos multiple times. The fourth had a psychotic break and completely disassociated with reality. He became convinced there were worms digging through his brain and used his nails to carve away at his scalp. No one knows how simply talking with the Joker caused a renowned and heavily trained doctor to lose his sanity, but Joseph Irvine became a patient in Arkham. Dr. Sophia Angeles was number five. She was a kind and funny woman, but following weeks of hearing all the horrors inside Joker’s mind, she drove her Pontiac off a dock and never surfaced. Number six was Dr. Johann Strauss. He flew in from Germany to take on the self-proclaimed King of Gotham. I didn’t like Johann much – he was far too misogynistic – but he worked with Joker the longest. Dr. Strauss seemed to be making progress. His notes are extensive and detailed, describing acts of crime so vividly that I could easily picture them in my head. Where others would be horrified, I was fascinated. Each new page showed another facet of Joker’s personality. He is utterly indescribable. At first, there seems to be no method to his madness, spending weeks recounting crimes that seemed to have nothing in common, only to finally reveal that all of those crimes coincided in a master plan that laid out so intricately you could only marvel at the intelligence it took to pull it off. There was a reason he ruled Gotham; he played the game on a level that no one else could even see. 

At the end of Strauss’s time working at Arkham, he made a decision about the Joker’s treatment that I don’t agree with and it’s probably what killed him. Johann started his patient on 5 rounds of electroconvulsive therapy (also known as ECT or electroshock.) From everything I’ve read, this is the worst possible treatment for him. Nothing indicates that it would be beneficial. To be quite honest, I wish the asylum would do away with electroshock completely. In all my research I have found no benefits to this style of so-called “therapy.” 

Johann was found in his apartment with a single gunshot wound to the head, execution-style. I believe this to be retaliation for the electroshock, carried out by one of Joker’s many henchmen. 

And now there’s me – lucky number seven. Alera did _not_ want me taking this case. 

“You are still new to this, Harleen,” she’d insisted, “To be frank, I’ve been working here two decades and even _I_ don’t feel capable of taking on the Joker. He’s in Max for a reason. And let’s not even mention how many psychiatrists I’ve already lost to this clown … no pun intended. You’ve been doing so much good and making so much headway with your patients. And you’re very good at what you do. I’d hate to lose you as well.” 

But I know I can help. I’ve read his file so many times, I could recite entire passages. I’ve studied his criminal history. I’ve spent all-nighters scouring the internet for every shred of information I could find about this man. And it doesn’t hurt that no one else is willing to treat him. Alera can object all she wants; she knows I’m the only one who will agree to take this case. The Joker is _my_ patient, and while I’m scared as hell of meeting him face to face, I am positive that I can help him. 

I know I’ve mentioned “giving up on guys” but here’s the thing – even if I am asexual (which I assume I am due to my lack of real enjoyment in all forms of sex), I know I’m not aromantic. I want love. There is still that big part of me that yearns to find that one thing I’ve never had. Never been allowed to have and was even punished for wanting. Friendship isn’t the same. The stability, unconditional love of family, knowing you are wanted and that you belong … all the things I had been so callously denied throughout my life, that’s what I want. My college friends always made me feel loved and a part of the group, but it’s just _not_ the same. I don’t know if maybe I’m putting too much focus on romance “fixing” the holes in my heart. I should probably be working on these issues with my therapist but there are things I just can’t bring myself to share with her. Therapy is a requirement of working at Arkham due to the stress of dealing with such intense patients. And while you’re not required to see a colleague, it is heavily encouraged. I have a feeling that Alera peruses the employee therapy notes often, and I just can’t trust that she won’t use any of it against us. Our health insurance is shit, but seeing a therapist in Arkham is free. I feel so coerced into doing something I would have done willingly that I keep most information to myself. With the way it’s set up, I really think it’s meant to benefit the Asylum and not us as patients. That’s not what therapy is supposed to be. And as a psychiatrist, I know that I have trauma to work through. Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen in my current situation. 

The men I’ve dated, even the ones that thought they loved me… it just wasn’t there. I have to admit there were times I allowed the relationships to continue long past they were clearly over because it was nice to have someone who cared. Even if I didn’t love them back, feeling wanted eased the ache in my heart. At least for a while. Eventually, I couldn’t fool myself any longer and I would end it. As much as I want to, I just can’t give up. I’ll tell myself, promise myself, that I’m done. I’m out. Dating is stressful and always disappointing. I think sometimes I punish myself by accepting all offers. Or maybe it’s just the hope in me that refuses to die. After all I’ve suffered, it’s still there. It would be so much easier to put the desire for love out of my head. I just can’t. 

Which is why I ended up at dinner with Andy last night. He’s been asking me to go out for a little while now. And there’s nothing wrong with him. We’ve been working together for a couple of months at the asylum. He’s an orderly and overall a really nice guy. I feel no spark, but the thought that just maybe things might work out … well, it brought me a somewhat awkward night. It was clear that he was really trying. He’d made a reservation at one of the nicer Italian places and was even wearing a tie. The conversation was pleasant but didn’t really go anywhere. Andy ordered a bottle of wine and attempted the Italian pronunciations of the dishes we were ordering. It was obvious to me by the middle of the meal that we weren’t really clicking, but it was like he was completely oblivious. He held my hand across the table after we’d ordered and the way he looked at me… I felt guilty. For not feeling what he clearly was. That’s the worst part about dating. Sometimes you wind up hurting people in the process, and that can make you gun-shy about hurting anyone else. Maybe that’s why I’ve let my relationships stretch out beyond my comfort level. 

I was wanting to go home, back to where I felt safe. But he ordered dessert and coffee and then lingered. And lingered. It was like he didn’t want the evening to end while I was desperate to be out the door. And I just couldn’t speak up about it. Andy is so sweet. He’s softhearted and kind. And earnest. He has a slight southern accent and it’s obvious his mom raised a southern gentleman. He’d opened doors and pulled out my chair. Even called me ma’am a few times which was just … odd to a girl from Massachusetts. 

Finally, we left. He insisted on sharing a taxi, even though we lived in different directions. Once at my place, he asked the cabbie to wait and then walked me to the front door. 

“Thank you for a nice evening, Andy.” 

“I would love to see you again. Outside of work, I mean.” 

My smile was weak but I felt so cornered I just nodded, “That would be lovely.” 

Before I knew it, he leaned forward and kissed me softly. I froze. I don’t know why I hadn’t been expecting it, but he’d completely taken me by surprise. When he pulled away, I squeaked out “I’ll see you tomorrow” and ducked inside. He’s going to take that so differently from how I’d meant it. He’d already been reading more into what was between us than there was. _This is why you don’t date co-workers,_ _Harleen_ _. It’s going to be so uncomfortable tomorrow._

I feel somewhat trapped. I really don’t want to hurt Andy’s feelings, but I’m so tired of being a doormat. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Am I really so weak that I can’t stand up for what I want in any scenario? Or did my childhood mold this need to please in me? When it came to Harold and Henrietta, Uncle Tom and Aunt Judy, Laurie and Angela, Uncle Bob and Aunt Melinda, and Chris, Dave, and Jess it was literally impossible to please anyone. Unless I was completely out of sight and silent. My very existence was a slight against them. Father didn’t even bother introducing me to Anne, my stepmother, or Henry, my half-brother. There was no making anyone happy in my family. Instead of a College Going Away party for me, they had a Finally Free party after I’d left. 

I should have run away. 

Would my life really have been any worse on the streets? 

Honestly, I know it would have been. I’ve had homeless patients before and the stories are harrowing. As bad as I had it, it really could have been a lot worse. That doesn’t erase what I’ve been through, but it does help when I find myself wishing things could have been different. Sometimes I think of Mother. I wonder what it would have been like if she’d left with me, but the thought of a 14-year-old girl on the streets with a newborn makes me weep. 

I don’t know what to do about Andy. I don’t know how long I’m going to wind up stuck in the middle of this. As much as I want to let him down easily, I can’t bear the thought of hurting him. Not to mention how awkward things would be at work. With some effort, I could avoid him. I would have to request other orderlies for my patients, try to schedule their sessions in the areas of Arkham he’s not scheduled to be working in. Of course, to potentially break his heart and then ghost him would be unnecessarily cruel. A rock to my left, a hard place to my right, I am well and truly stuck.


	3. Chapter 3

I’m getting a little sick of everyone’s “concern.” I’ve fielded a number of calls this evening and it’s become more than a little irritating. The first was from Jamie, the nurse usually assigned to my patients. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, Harleen?” she was trying to mask her fear with fretting over me, but it was evident where her feelings truly lie. “People have died. A lot of people.” 

“That doesn’t mean we ignore our duty, Jamie. He needs help. It’s my job to help him.” 

“He’s a murderer!” 

“How many killers have we treated?” 

“It’s not the same! He’s killed psychiatrists!” The level of fear in her voice rose until she didn’t even try to hide it anymore. “They’re all dead! People we worked with; people we loved.” Her voice broke on the last word, and that’s when I remembered. Dr. Irving. They had gotten engaged right before he started working with the Joker. Less than one month into his stay at Arkham, Joseph gouged out his eyes with his bare hands. Two days later he somehow got his hands on a knife that had been removed from another patient and sliced himself all over his head, trying to get at the worms. He bled out in minutes. 

My heart broke. I’d been so focused on my plan for the Joker’s care that I’d completely forgotten about what he’d done to Jamie, “I’m so sorry. I am _so_ sorry, Jamie. I’ll have Alera take you off my cases and moved somewhere else. We’ll keep you out of Max so you don’t even have to worry about seeing him, ok?” 

“No, Harleen … that’s not what I meant.” I could hear the tears in her voice, “You can’t do this. Please. I can’t lose you too.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, Jamie.” 

“THAT SOUNDS FAMILIAR.” she exploded and then burst into tears. 

I felt a few welling up myself, “I know. I know that you’re scared and I understand. But this is my job. This is my passion. I’m not fool enough to say that I can do what no one else can, but I refuse to leave anyone without treatment.” 

“He doesn’t deserve it,” she replied bitterly. 

“I understand why you feel that way.” Such a psychiatrist answer, but I wasn’t going to let her talk me out of my job. “I’ll speak to Alera and have you restricted to Minimum. We’re all behind you, Jamie. And I know you’re worried for me,” I cut her off as I could hear her beginning to reply, “but I’m going to work with the Joker. There is nothing you can say that will change my mind.” 

“You’re going to regret this.” And then she hung up. I sighed because I knew what she was going through but I also knew that there was no positive way to end that conversation. The only thing she wanted was for me to drop the Joker as a patient before I’d even started with him. But that wasn’t going to happen. 

My second call was from Ned, another psychiatrist at Arkham that I’d gone on a few dates with about four months ago. Lucky for me he’d also realized we weren’t right for each other and so things ended amicably. 

“I know you’ve thought about this from every angle,” his low rumble was soothing, perfect tones for a therapist, “but I have to ask - is there anything I can say to talk you out of this?” 

“Ned …” I wasn’t sure how to answer. He was an impeccably kind man, but … boring. Talking to him was like … well, like talking to a psychiatrist. It was like he didn’t know how to turn off “doctor” and just be Ned. And I say that as someone who struggles with the same thing. 

“I didn’t think so.” There was a sad smile in his voice. Like he had a million things to say but knew none of them would change anything. “You know you can come talk to me anytime, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“I mean it, Harleen. Day or night, I’m only a phone call away.” I couldn’t bear the sadness in his voice. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” 

“You know I’m not going to break privilege.” I joked. 

He ignored that, “I’m here. Always.” 

He’s so kind. Always was. 

The phone rang again. Of course, it was Andy. 

“It’s late, Andy, is everything ok?” _Please be something else, I’m so sick of talking about this._

“I don’t want to start another fight.” 

I sighed. We’d already squabbled about the Joker a number of times now, “So don’t. Please.” 

“How can you not understand how crazy this is?” 

“You know I don’t like that word.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m just so worried. You’ve seen what he’s done. So many people are dead.” 

“We’ve gone over this and over this. You’re not the first call I’ve gotten tonight, can we please just drop it?” 

“Of course.” it was like he answered without thinking. He was just too nice for his own good. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” 

“Yeah. Thank you. Goodnight, Andy.” 

“Goodnight, Harleen.” 

After hanging up, I quickly texted Alera. I wasn’t up for any more calls, but I knew I needed to let her know about Jamie. Once that was done, I turned off my phone and went to bed. I don’t want any more negative interruptions. No more raining on my parade. I’m allowed to be excited. Tomorrow I meet my newest patient, the Joker.


	4. Chapter 4

I could barely contain my nerves this morning. If I’d really thought about it, I would have skipped the caffeine and eaten something. Instead, I sipped on Starbucks as I rode the subway and blamed the butterflies in my stomach for my decision not to eat. The ride seemed far longer than usual and the more that time ticked away, the more those butterflies grew. By the time I reached my stop, my pulse had started to pound. 

_I can do this_. 

My heels clacked down the sidewalk, bringing me closer to the huge brick building. I raised a hand to the security guard as I walked past, barely registering his nod. Once inside, I beelined my way to my office, draining the last of my coffee and starting to feel a little jittery. Alera was waiting for me. 

“I just want to make sure that you’re certain about this.” 

I didn’t even answer, just gave her a look and she sighed, nodding, “I’m taking you off your other cases.” 

Well if that wasn’t a blow to the stomach. I could barely speak, “You’re taking my patients?” 

“The Joker is going to need the entirety of your focus, Harleen. I’ve lost six highly trained psychiatrists to this guy. I’m not taking any risks with you. I can’t have you distracted while you’re working with him.” 

For some reason, that eased all the anxiety that filled my bones. I could devote myself completely to his care. 

_I can do this._

“Thank you, Alera.” I smiled, “For trusting and supporting me.” 

“You’ll be seeing him in Security 1.” 

I know my expression faltered, “Not in my office?” 

Each psychiatrist that worked in Minimum had an office where they met with patients. Same thing over in Max. If you worked both, you had two offices. 

“No. Risks. Harleen.” 

“Right, of course, Alera.” 

She still showed trepidation in her eyes, but when she wished me luck she seemed sincere. Alera left and I paused to gather my thoughts. One final glance through his file, and I made my way to Maximum. I passed through the guard station and clacked down the halls to the room where I would be meeting my patient. As I approached, I could see that they had stenciled my name on the door. Did that make the room officially mine? Mine and his, since he is my sole patient? There were already two guards standing outside when I crossed the threshold and I stopped just inside the bright white room. I wasn’t expecting him to already be there. 

I barely registered the two other guards standing behind him because my eyes were too busy taking in the sight of him. I’d only ever seen grainy photos on the nightly news, grainy security footage of his previous sessions. They hadn’t prepared me. 

His hair was bright green and slicked back from his face. Across his forehead in thin script was tattooed “ _Damaged”_ and there was another small tattoo beneath his left eye of the letter J. A third tattoo of a star decorated his right temple, the corners of others barely visible above his shirt. His skin was white. Not in the Caucasian way, but the actual color white like sun-bleached bones. His lips were so purely red I was reminded of Snow White. Skin the color of snow, lips the color of blood, hair … well, not ebony but a vivid green. The structure of his face was pleasant, and I’m only slightly ashamed to admit I felt an attraction. The waterlines of his eyes were red as well, dark and irritated, but his irises … they are this clear blue that seem to pierce. When his eyes met mine, I could feel his gaze in the deepest reaches of my mind. 

I frowned when I saw that he was in a straightjacket. 

_No. Risks. Harleen._

_I can do this._

“You can go,” I told the guards. And when they opened their mouths to protest, I cut them off. “My protection does not trump the rights of my patient. He is to be provided with doctor/patient confidentiality. Which is why this” and here I pointed to the security camera above the door “does not record sound. You two may join the others outside and I will call you if I need you.” 

There was an edge to my voice that warned I would not back down and so the two guards begrudgingly trudged past me into the hall. I closed the door firmly and turned back to my patient. 

“Mr. Joker.” I began as I walked to the small table to take my seat across from him, “I am Dr. Harleen Quinzel and I am your new psychiatrist. Before we begin, there are a few things I think you should know about me. I will never lie to you. I’m not going to ask you to trust me, I’m going to show you that you can.” 

I tucked a strand of hair behind one ear as I spoke, an extra moment to calm myself and maintain my professional demeanor, “Trust is something that is earned, not demanded, and I have no intentions of making any demands of you. I will fight for your rights as my patient, and I will devote myself to your care. I am not here to fix you.” He smiled then, baring those metal teeth, and I paused to take a breath. “I am here to help you. You are my only patient, and so you are my focus.” 

He shifted in his chair and the sound of metal clanked beneath him. I bent to glance under the table and saw that his ankles were chained to the chair that was bolted to the ground. His feet were bare beneath the shackles, the rubber-soled socks we provide every patient missing. I came up scowling but tried to regain my composure before finishing my planned speech. 

“Is there anything you want me to know before we begin?” 

He stared at me then, those crystal blue eyes scanning over me before locking onto my own. I never broke his gaze, even when I could feel his fingers rifling through the pages of my soul. The clock in a cage bolted high on the wall ticked away an eternity as he stared me down. Finally, he spoke. 

“I know everything about you, Doc.” As he drawled out certain syllables, my heart sputtered in my chest. His voice was not what I expected. I can’t really describe it, but oh, how it causes my pulse to quicken and my stomach to drop. My mouth went dry when he continued. “I had my boys find out all there is to know.” 

“Maximum security patients don’t get visitation,” I spoke without thinking. 

He grinned, “I don’t need visitation. My boys know how to reach me. Always.” 

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry. I don’t understand, even now, why I had such physical reactions to him. 

“Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel,” the way he said my name squeezed the air from my lungs. I sucked in a ragged breath as he continued, “Born to a teenaged mother, raised by paternal grandparents, lost a grandmother at 16. What was that like?” 

“We’re … We’re not here to talk about me.” I stuttered. 

“Oh, but I want to talk about _you_.” Those blue eyes raked over me again. 

_If this is how to get him to open up, it won’t be so bad to tell him a bit._ “It was hard.” I swallowed unsuccessfully. “Not actually being without her; there was no love lost between us. … But what it meant after she was gone.” 

“Which is?” he prompted. 

I knew, I _know_ that I shouldn’t be discussing myself with a patient. Therapy is never about the therapist and it crosses a line to share personal information. But the look in his eyes… there was no way to deny his request, “That I was left alone with my grandfather.” 

“No ‘love lost’ there either?” 

I shook my head, “He hated me.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Joker, but this is really what you want to discuss?” _Because we really shouldn’t be discussing_ ** _any_** _of this._

“Oh, yes.” He grinned at me again and I couldn’t stop my lips from curving into a returned smile. 

I cleared my throat and licked my lips. “Father was imprisoned for statutory rape. Mother was underage.” 

“I’ll say. Fourteen is young for babies.” 

“If you already know all this, why are you asking me about it?” 

A slow smirk spread across his face. “You told me you would be honest with me. I’m testing that theory.” 

I could do nothing but stare in shock for a moment. This was not how he’d interacted with any of his previous psychiatrists. Their notes depicted a cold, calculating mind that was on occasion curious but mostly devilishly cunning. He never once showed any kind of interest in the psychiatrist themselves. 

“Your grandfather hated you.” He prompted again. Then a more direct order, “Continue, Dr. Quinzel.” 

I nodded and licked my lips again. “They all did. My grandparents, my aunts and their families. I was the family shame.” 

And on it went. I told him things I have never shared with anyone. I talked about the small town just outside Boston where I had been raised. I told him about living with Harold and Henrietta; how that molded me into a self-relying, yet overall lonely young woman. He’s the only person who knows what I experienced in the psych unit after Henrietta’s death. When I mentioned starting medication in the hospital he sneered. “You don’t need that shit.” 

“Well, it has helped – “ 

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.” He frowned. “There was nothing wrong with you.” 

“I had a psychiatric episode. Hours that have disappeared from my memory.” 

“And that means you’re _crazy_?” He scoffed. “Even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with crazy.” 

“I don’t like that word.” 

“What?” his face twisted into mockery, “Crazy?” 

“Being mentally unwell does not make someone crazy or insane. With appropriate therapies, rebuilding a stable mind is completely possible.” 

He frowned and repeated, “There’s nothing wrong with being crazy.” 

“I know how you feel about psychotropic drugs.” I began, but he cut me off again. 

“ _You_ _know_ how I _feel_?” His sour expression and mocking tone begged to differ. 

“You’ve refused to take any prescribed medications. If I remember correctly, you bit the aide that gave them to you when he was ordered get them in by any means necessary. Except for that antibiotic when you first arrived. You swallowed those without complaint. They tried intravenous meds and you became so violent beforehand that for safety’s sake they had to stop.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” 

“If that were wholly true, you wouldn’t be here.” 

He scowled. I cleared my throat and continued, “You are like no one I have ever encountered before. In more ways than one. … But even you have to admit that your lack of respect for human life isn’t normal.” 

“ _Normal?_ ” he sneered again. “Fuck normal. And fuck everyone who thinks you have to fit the mold to deserve freedom.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

He rolled his eyes, “And yet you’ll still order they shove pills down my throat.” 

I shook my head, “I’m not here to work against you, Mr. Joker. I intend to work _with_ you towards your goals. And knowing how you feel about medication, I would never force it on you. I don’t believe in alienating my patients. If they can’t trust me, how on earth am I supposed to help them? … I won’t lie, I believe in the benefits of medication. That’s why I’m still on mine.” 

He scowled again and repeated his earlier words, “You don’t need that shit.” 

I shrugged. “I disagree. Now, where was I?” 

And I went back to sharing my past. I told him about my wariness of leaving the hospital and going back to Harold, and how hard it was to be left alone with someone who hated me so viciously. I mentioned seeing Father and his family, and the bitter jealousy that had filled me when he’d picked up and lovingly cuddled his son – my brother – mere minutes before stumbling through an awkward greeting to me. I talked about the sheer joy it was to move to Gotham and begin university. Then I shared how I’d found out the truth of what had happened to my mother and how that sparked my passion for psychiatry, and formed the following years as ones of ravenous study. The more things I confirmed for him, the more I was rewarded with the smile that made my stomach flip. At the end of our session, as the guards entered and unlocked the shackles at his feet, he leaned across the table and whispered conspiratorially, “I look forward to seeing you again, Doc.” 

I beamed at him and whispered back, “Me too.” 

The guards pulled him roughly to his feet, nearly causing him to lose his balance before yanking him towards the door so fast that he stumbled keeping up with them. 

“You will treat my patient with respect, or I will have your jobs.” I snapped at the security officers. They glowered at me but moved with more gentleness afterward. 

As they walked my patient down the hall, the Joker started to laugh; a slow cackle that gained volume and sent shivers down my spine. I couldn’t slow the beat of my heart and I mused on the nature of fear as I made my way to my office in Max. By the time I unlocked the door and closed it behind me, I came to the realization that none of my reactions to the Joker had been fearful. I was pleased by his interest in me. I reveled in the laser focus of his gaze. And being the one to bring a smile to those blood-red lips … it’s pure satisfaction. It’s a good thing Alera already cleared my caseload. I don’t think I’ll be able to think about anything but the Joker.


	5. Chapter 5

I have never been more infuriated with another human being in the entirety of my life. Alera found me after lunch, asking how that morning’s session had gone. I tried to be as noncommittal as possible while also leaving a positive impression about the experience. I wanted Alera to think I was doing well, but I didn’t want to admit that my first session with my patient was spent talking about me. 

“Well, I’m glad it went well. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll bring you to the therapy room.” 

“Therapy room?” I echoed as I matched her stride. She had turned to walk away, expecting me to follow, at the end of her sentence. 

“Yes, the Joker’s therapy is this afternoon.” 

But I hadn’t prescribed any therapies yet. Alera was moving quickly and I struggled to keep up with her long legs. I didn’t recognize the halls she led me down, nor the room she stopped outside of. She pushed the swinging door open and went to step inside but I caught her arm. “Alera, what therapy? I haven’t prescribed any therapies – “ 

“You’ve read his file, Harleen.” She released the door as she turned to me and it slowly swung backwards but caught partway open. “Strauss ordered five rounds of ECT, but only administered four.” 

I recoiled, staring at her in horror. “You know how I feel about electroshock, Alera. I’ve refused to prescribe it to any of my patients, and that includes this one.” 

“It’s already been ordered.” She waved a hand in dismissal and turned to enter the room again. 

“No.” I shook my head violently. “Alera, I won’t do this. There are no benefits to this treatment and even if there were, it wouldn’t be right for this patient.” 

“Are you a doctor at this asylum?” She turned to me coolly with a stone-faced expression. “Do you work here?” 

“What do you mean, do I work here? Of course, I work here.” 

“Then you know that doctor’s orders are to be followed. A course of treatment was prescribed to this patient. It has yet to be completed. If you would like to continue being a psychiatrist at Arkham, you will follow the treatment plan outlined in his file and complete the therapies that have been prescribed to him.” 

I stared open-mouthed. “Are you saying you’ll fire me if I don’t do this?” 

“You won’t have given me any other choice.” 

“Alera, you can’t be serious.” 

“You won’t have given me any other choice.” She repeated, each word accentuated. 

“But there’s no one else willing to work with him. Would you be taking over his care?” 

She snorted. She actually _snorted_ , as if the prospect were ridiculous. “I’m not working with him. I’ll find someone else. And until someone else can be found, he will remain in his cell untreated.” 

I shook with rage. “This is completely unethical.” 

She swept a hand toward the electroshock room. “The choice is yours, Dr. Quinzel.” 

My hands trembled as they curled into fists, but I stomped past her to the partially open door. “Dr. Standness,” I spat in dismissal and pushed the door open. 

Inside was my patient, already strapped to a table. A few guards and nurses milled about the room, chatting with each other as if nothing were wrong. I glared at all of them. How could they act like this was anything but barbaric? 

The fury that coursed along with my blood pricked angry tears into the corners of my eyes. I strode over to the instrument of torture, picking up the thick wooden cylinder lying before it and bringing it above the Joker’s face. His blue eyes glowered up at me, nonexistent brows knit together in rage. I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes but only caused one to spill over and slide down my cheek as he opened his mouth and took the dowel between his teeth. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Joker,” I whispered. “This goes against everything I believe in.” 

My only reply was the livid glare of my patient. I picked up the two wands and placed them on either side of his temples. 

“I want it on the lowest setting,” I told the nurse to my left. 

“Dr. Strauss was building up in the previous sessions. He’s meant to be at level 6 for the first round of this one and end on level 10.” He almost sounded condescending, as if his years of working in this torture chamber brought authority. 

“Did I fucking stutter?” My head snapped to the left and I held the man in an infuriated scowl. “Dr. Strauss is dead. I am this man’s doctor and if I’m going to have my hands forced into this cruel act of barbarity, it is going to be on the _lowest fucking setting._ ” 

The nurse shrank back from my rage and nodded silently, adjusting the dial down to 1. I took a breath, apologized again to my patient, and depressed the buttons that activated the electroshock. His body stiffened as electricity coursed, and I saw tiny sparks fly from one tooth to the next. To the count of five, I held down the buttons and then released. He relaxed, but never tore his eyes from mine. When the nurse moved to raise the level for the second round, I broke Joker’s gaze and literally growled at the man to my left. “ _Leave it_.” 

The treatment plan called for five rounds of electricity per session, with each round raising in intensity. Not on my watch. 

I looked back down at the man staring up at me and steeled myself for the second round. Once again, his eyes locked onto mine and I depressed the buttons, this time for a count of ten. My hands were shaking by the time I was done. _This is wrong._ repeated in my thoughts through both previous rounds, and I could not force myself to do the third. I knew then that I couldn’t administer the rest. I pulled the wands away from Joker’s skull and shook my head. “He’s done.” 

A female guard on my right stepped forward with a frown. “Three more, Dr. Quinzel.” 

I glared at her and held the wands in her direction. “You are more than welcome to administer them yourself.” 

She took another step forward and reached for the wands, but stopped when she caught Joker looking at her. His eyes had taken on a maniacal glint and she recoiled from his gaze. I looked around the room, holding out the wands as an offer. “Anyone else think he requires more treatment?” 

No one would meet my eyes. I slammed the wands down on the table and ordered them to untie my patient. As they unbuckled straps and pulled him to his feet, I noticed the tattoos that had previously been hidden by the straightjacket. Three different smiles on his arms, one on the back of each hand and one on his right forearm. A few dozen Ha’s over his left pectoral, four aces with a ribbon stating “ALL iN” on his shoulder above them. A skull with a jester hat covering his right pectoral and shoulder. “JOKER” above his navel and another smile curled below it. Batman’s symbol with a knife through it on his left bicep. More Ha’s on his left forearm. A dead robin lying on its back with an arrow sticking through its chest on his right bicep. The guards began putting the straightjacket back on him, and when they turned him around it revealed a massive oriental dragon tattoo covering his back. They worked the straps and buckles, tightening them far more than I thought was necessary. Then they spun him around to face me. 

“Next time you take him from his cell, give him the fucking time to put his shirt on.” I glowered at the guards. 

The one on the right had the decency to shuffle his feet in embarrassment, “Alera said - “ 

“Is she his doctor?” I interrupted. 

The two guards exchanged a glance and I repeated myself with an added edge to my tone. “Is _she_ his _doctor_?” 

“No, ma’am.” Answered the other guard quietly. 

“Well then, when it comes to his standard of care, I guess we’ll be following his _actual doctor’s_ instructions.” I huffed. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Replied both guards. 

I stepped forward and gently took the stick from between his teeth and he offered me a wary smile. “See ya, Doc.” He said as they pulled him from the room. 

It is clear to me that I am the only one in Arkham who truly has his welfare at heart. And I refuse to be bullied again into making the wrong choices. The Joker is in _my_ care, and I'll be damned if I'm about to let someone else make decisions on his treatment. Especially when no one else seems to give a shit about him as a person.


	6. Chapter 6

Andy texted a few hours after I’d gotten home, going on about how wonderful our date was and how he’d like to do it again soon. My reply was noncommittal. When he mentioned his disappointment that we hadn’t run into each other that day, I explained that I’d had my caseload reduced to one. He was concerned. 

“Are you sure you want to be doing this? All of his psychiatrists have died!” _Why does everyone keep saying that? Do they think I've forgotten??_

“I know. But I’m not worried. He’s different with me.” 

“That’s terrifying.” 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” 

“I really think you should drop him as a patient.” 

I scowled, fingers typing furiously, “I really think you should mind your business and I’ll mind mine. You didn’t spend the majority of your twenties buried in textbooks so when it comes to psychiatry, why don’t you let me do my job. If you want to worry, worry about doing your own job well.” 

He didn’t answer. _That was probably too far._ _But maybe he’ll give up on me now…_

It’s nearing midnight as I write this. I’ve yet to sleep, and I don’t find it likely that I will any time soon. Every time I close my eyes, I see Joker’s blue ones staring at me. I see the smile and then the fury, feel his laughter caressing down my skin … It’s been hours since I’ve seen him, but I can’t get him out of my head. Not once this evening did he leave my mind. 

I find myself picturing him in his cell, wondering if he’s succumbed to the peace of sleep. I daydreamed about gently loosening all the straps of his straightjacket until he could pull the monstrosity from his muscled body and toss it aside. I envisioned stamping his file “RELEASED” and watching as he left Arkham. He looked back at me and held out a hand, waiting for me to give him mine and follow. Then I quickly turned on the television in an attempt to distract myself. 

There is something about him that has gotten under my skin. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the track of my thoughts was akin to that of my teenaged crushes. But no one has ever intrigued me like the Joker. 

I replayed the electroshock event in my mind on a loop. From Alera’s audacity to Joker’s rage, I relived it all. I have never felt so violently about another human being in my life. There were days when Harold’s hatred became too much to bear and I fantasized about hitting him upside the head with a giant mallet, akin to the old Looney Tunes show I was never allowed to watch. But even that paled in comparison to the infuriated feelings I bear for Alera. She had always supported my decision to avoid electroshock in relation to my patients. She’d even confessed once that she held no esteem for the practice and agreed when I mentioned it should be removed from the asylum. 

But when referred to the Joker, she insisted it be carried out. If he had been anyone else, she would have stricken the orders at my request. 

Did she fear him? Was that the reason for her demands that I continue the treatment? Or did she think he deserved all the punishment he could get for his commission of crimes? 

But I’m not his punisher. I’m his doctor. My priority is his wellbeing. Clearly, Alera does not agree. 

Even now I can see his face swimming before me. I can feel the intensity of his gaze. When his eyes lock onto mine, I find myself … at peace. Which is strange. All of the time I spent preparing to take on this case had me thinking that I would continuously be on edge, always watching for the shoe to drop and his wildness to come out. But actually being in his presence is completely different. I feel at ease with him, and when he smiles at me … I can’t stop the lifting of my heart or the curving of my lips in a returned grin of my own. 

His indignation over the continuation of Strauss’s treatment was understandable. If I’m correct in my surmising on the reason for Johann’s death, I’m sure he expected that the expiry of the former psychiatrist would be the end of the electroshock. I can only hope that he won’t hold it against me. With the door to the “therapy room” partially open, it's likely that my patient heard my argument with Dr. Standness. If that’s the case, then he knows I was forced into administering the treatment. I suppose I’ll find out tomorrow if he’s going to blame me for what he endured. 

I need to sleep. I can’t be off my game tomorrow when I see him again. I wonder what he’ll want to talk about … 

I want to feel him smile at me again. The fury in his eyes when he glowered at me was like physical pain. It hurt to see him … disappointed in me. I _need_ to make him smile again. 

If I’m going to be the only one interested in his wellbeing, I’m going to make damn sure I do all I can to stay in his good graces. He needs someone in his corner if he’s going to have any hope of working his way up through the levels and into Minimum. He’s going to need support and encouragement if he’s to have _any_ hope of making it out of the asylum. From what I’ve seen, no one else is going to support him. So, it’s up to me. And I’m ok with that.


	7. Chapter 7

We sat in silence for the first twenty minutes of this morning’s session. He stared at me, expressionless, and I waited for him to speak. Having no idea what he thought of the previous day’s events, I didn’t dare start first; I couldn’t risk upsetting him should I say the wrong thing. So, I sat wordlessly with a yellow legal pad on the table before me, wondering when he would choose to break the silence between us. 

My heart skipped a beat when he drew in a breath and opened his mouth. “I know that wasn’t your choice.” 

Instant relief flooded my system and I shook my head vehemently. “No. It is a vulgar practice that I have never accepted as legitimate.” 

He tilted his head then, cracking the joints in his neck before dazzling me with his biggest smile, “Tell me, Doc. What treatment do you prescribe?” 

I faltered. Remembering my vow to always tell him the truth, I spoke with honesty. “I don’t know yet. I typically need to get to know a patient before coming to any decisions on their treatment plans.” 

“So ya wanna get to know me?” His grin lifted, crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

_Desperately_ , I thought, but chose to pick my words more carefully. “It’s more of a need than a want.” 

He cackled at that and I felt my cheeks flush. I rushed to explain, “I can’t make decisions on a proper course of treatment without first understanding the needs of my patient.” 

“Oh, I know what you really mean, Doc. You wanna hear about my _needs_.” The final word was growled out low between metal teeth and the ensuing shivers down my spine brought a chuckle tumbling forth from blood-red lips. I could feel an anticipatory twinge between my legs and thanked whatever gods there were above that my body does not react to arousal the way a man’s would. 

“Mr. Joker – “ 

“My friends call me J.” He interrupted. 

I swallowed and began again. “Mr. Joker.” He rewarded me with another grin for not assuming his interruption was permission to address him with familiarity. “If you are going to be inappropriate, I will be forced to terminate you as my patient.” 

He raised a nonexistent brow and challenged me with his next words. “You would leave me _untreated_?” 

So, he _had_ heard my fight with Alera. I swallowed again and looked down at the table, trying desperately to gather my thoughts into a coherent sentence. Finally, I looked up at him and shook my head. 

“No,” I admitted. He knew I was the only person who would work with him, and he also knew that I could never allow myself to abandon his care. He grinned at me again, leaning forward slightly. 

“So, what does it matter what I say?” 

“For my own comfort – “ 

“Oh, I think you’re _comfortable_ with me, Dr. Quinzel.” 

I flushed again and decided to give up this line of talk for a different one. 

“What are your goals, Mr. Joker?” 

He sat back in his chair, the chains clanking beneath him as he moved. “Getting out, of course.” 

“And how do you hope to achieve that goal?” 

He dazzled me with another wide smile, “With your help.” 

I positively glowed. He was clearly beginning to trust me if he felt I would play a part in his healing. 

“You are gonna help me, right, Doc?” 

“Of course,” I smiled at him, not noticing that I was leaning forward in my seat. “It would be my pleasure.” 

“ _Your pleasure._ ” He drawled out the words with a twisted grin. “Yeah, I think I could show you _pleasure_.” 

I straightened in my chair as my cheeks flushed a third time. “Mr. Joker.” I admonished, though my thighs were positively quivering. He tossed his head back and laughed, enjoying my embarrassment. 

“Come on, Harleen.” He taunted and I prayed he didn’t notice the catch in my breathing when he said my name. “Don’tcha wanna _play_.” 

I started at that, his choice of words striking a chord in me. Harold had never allowed me to play. Henrietta didn’t mind, though she always rushed me to stop when Harold would have the chance to catch me. The Joker’s gaze never left my face, and I could swear he could hear the thoughts swirling in my brain. 

“I … I don’t know how.” I admitted. 

“Oh, I bet you do. You just need the right person to dig it out of ya.” 

I wouldn’t submit to what he wanted of me. I knew what he was waiting for me to ask – _And that person is you?_ But I wasn’t going to blatantly allow that kind of insinuation between me and a patient. I pressed my lips into a thin line and made a note on the legal pad. 

He snarled when he realized I wasn’t going to play along. Then he growled out, “You _know_ it’s me.” 

I swallowed again, leaving my eyes on the pad of paper and continuing to make notations. By the time my heart had slowed to a normal pace, I was ready to address him again. 

“We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot,” I started. 

One hairless brow raised, “Oh?” 

I continued, “I prefer to begin my relationships with new patients with a self-history. … _Not_ my own, of course.” 

He chuckled at that. “So, we’re startin’ a relationship, are we, Doc?” 

“A doctor/patient relationship, yes.” I could have sworn his smile faltered. I adjusted my notepad and began going through my typical questions, wondering just what kind of answers his unique mind would give. “Now, your name.” 

He grinned wide enough to flash the metal keeping his teeth together, “Is that a _joke_ , Dr. Quinzel?” 

“Name.” was my only reply. 

“The Joker.” 

Confirmation. Two words told me so much about him. First, the qualifier “the.” The dictionary defines “the” in a number of ways, one of which being that it denotes assumed common knowledge - a person, place, or thing that is so unique everyone is immediately aware of who or what the subject is upon mention. You don’t have to live in England to know whom The Queen refers to. Nor would you need to live in France to know of The Louvre. Calling himself The Joker instead of Mr. Joker or even just Joker is a qualifier that separates him from the rest of the world. His station is elevated, beyond mere humanity. Second, that he uses the name of his alter ego. There have been other fantastical criminals gracing the halls of Arkham Asylum, but they would answer with their birth names when asked. I had glanced through some of the files on Batman’s enemies in preparation for meeting The Joker. Pamela Lillian Isely called herself Poison Ivy. Edward Nigma went by Riddler. Victor Zsasz didn’t have an assumed identity. Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, or Penguin, was here only a short time before he was declared sane and transferred to prison. Dr. Victor Fries, Mr. Freeze, was also here a short time, but he was transferred because our facilities couldn’t support the sub-zero temperatures he required to survive. They all offered their names freely. 

“The King of Gotham, The Jester of Genocide – “ he continued until I held up a hand. More titles that referred to his assumed identity. 

“Thank you. Birthplace?” 

“Here. Gotham.” 

That was something I didn’t know. “Birthdate.” 

“April 25th.” 

I waited a moment before asking, “What year?” 

“2010.” 

I laughed. He was smirking, but not in jest. It was because he was being serious. “That was five years ago. You’re clearly not five years old.” 

“You wanted to know the day I was born. April 25th, 2010.” 

“That’s not possible.” The way he looked at me, it was like he was willing me to get it. And I did. It just clicked. “That’s when _you_ were born. Here, in Gotham.” 

He grinned, pleased that I understood him without further explanation. “Yes.” 

His answers referred to who he truly sees himself as – The Joker. It’s not an alter ego, a role to play for an agenda. The Joker is who he is, down to his marrow. To him, there is no other name. He came into existence five years ago, when the man he used to be somehow transformed. 

“I want to know about before.” 

“There is no before.” He sat back in his chair dismissively. 

“Tell me who you were before becoming who you are now.” 

“Why?” he spat, sitting up with a glare. “Why the hell would you want to know about a worthless piece of garbage? An insignificant leech whose only gift to society was his death?” 

I could have told him I needed to know his past in order to compile an appropriate clinical therapy. I could have told him that his past formed who he is. I could have told him it was a part of my process. I should have told him anything but the truth, anything but what I actually said. “Because I need to know who died in order to bring me you.” 

Those crystal blue eyes widened in surprise. My honesty was clearly unexpected. He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing, “You need to know? No… No, I think it’s a sick fascination. How does humanity go so bad that it ends up in this?” 

“That’s not- “ 

“No, no, no, Doctor. I know how it is. You wanna hear all the grimy, gory details.” 

“Mr. Jo- “ 

“You wanna know? You really wanna know, Doc? … You wanna hear about my father? I was lucky enough to have mine around growing up, ya know. Day in, day out, always there. Always. Right. There. He’d be my alarm clock every morning - screams or broken glass. He was always throwin’ his beer bottles. I slept in my shoes so I’d stop getting cuts on my feet. Either he was screaming at my mother or she was screaming in pain. Screams or breaking glass, sometimes in my bedroom, to wake me up. He only ever used his fists on me. Broke my nose once.” He sneered, “This shit get you off, Doc?” 

The question hurt me. But before I could answer he continued, “No, I know what you want. I know what you really want. How about my first murder?” 

My brows shot up from shock so fast that he laughed. “See, I knew that would get you. Really pique your interest. ... I had no control living under my parents’ roof, obviously. I grew into hate and rage as if I were born to it. With no other outlet, I turned to animals.” He leaned forward further, trying to toy with my emotions, “Cute, little, innocent animals. Stray cats, mice, squirrels, dogs. I caught them. I killed them. I skinned them. My methods varied. Sometimes I’d drown them. Smash their heads with rocks. My favorite was stabbing them to death. Trouble was, dear old dad had a soft spot for this one mangy mutt that kept turning up at the house. He strangled me unconscious when he found me covered in its blood.” 

My pulse was pounding. He spoke like one gifted. It was more than being a storyteller. It was masterful resonance and intonation. He drew me in. 

“I spent the afternoon preparing. And that night I set that dilapidated shack ablaze.” 

“You burned down your home?” 

“Oh, not just that. I trapped them inside first. Nails in the window frames. Jammed doors. Carefully placed accelerants. … Their screams are my lullaby at night.” 

“How old were you?” 

“Nine.” 

_So young…_ I thought. “How old are you?” 

“Somewhere on the lower end of thirty.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“There’s only one birthday I remember. … How old are you?” 

“You don’t know?” I smirked. He just grinned. “Somewhere on the higher end of twenty.” 

And that’s when the guards interrupted for lunch. 


	8. Chapter 8

I don’t think I have ever hated another human being this much, ever. I didn’t think it was possible to hate someone this much. Dr. Standness is one of the most vile people I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and that includes every last member of my family. I can’t believe I ever thought she was a friend. How could she have blinded me all these months? How did I not see the vindictive snake right in front of my face? She hid herself well. She cloaked her true self until yesterday afternoon. And I was so infuriated I couldn’t stop shaking long enough to pick up a pen last night. 

She came into my office after lunch, steely fury covered by the smile of someone about to watch an enemy fall. “Come with me, Harleen.” 

Alera turned out of my office faster than she had the day before, forcing me to run in order to catch up. She brought us right back to the electroconvulsive therapy room, bursting through the door before I could say a word. I had no choice but to follow, my ears greeted with a familiar growl of rage the second my first shoe hit the floor inside. He was strapped to the table again, this time in an Arkham assigned shirt, veins bulging as he struggled against the restraints furiously. 

“Dr. Standness, you are completely out of order.” 

“No, Dr. Quinzel, it is _you_ who is out of order. ” Eyes black as coal held me in contempt, “You were instructed to complete this man’s treatment and you not only reduced it against written orders, you stopped altogether! Just what was it that you heard yesterday that led you to believe that would be in _any_ way acceptable, because I was _I_ _mpeccably. Clear._ ” 

Three days ago, I would have kowtowed and scurried to please my boss. I would have melted under her abject anger and rushed to fix it in any way possible. But the clouds of furor that steamed from her nose with every breath only poured steel down my spine. I was not going to roll over and show my belly to the alpha. I am not going to let anyone force my hand into something I abhor. I will not hurt him again. “Last month we sat together over chicken salads and discussed our disdain for the practice of ECT. You told me you didn’t consider it to be therapy and when I said I wished Arkham would get rid of every last shred of this goddamn room you agreed with me!” 

“And so you think that means you can just decide- “ 

“ _I’m. Not. Finished._ ” She stared at me, shocked by my interruption. “ You threatened my job yesterday, you forced me into a practice you know I consider to be torture, and now you have the _audacity_ to attempt to do it all over again? You’re going to have to fire me, Alera. You’re _insane_ if you think I would have any part of this.” 

She got over her shock quickly and I saw the double down of rage in her ebony eyes, “You are walking a far finer line than you realize, Harleen. Don’t forget, without you he spends every second of every day locked in a cell, alone. A sociopathic criminal mastermind with a high IQ and a desire for unbridled chaos left to his own devices as minutes stretch to hours and days stretch to weeks, his only interaction the sliding of a food tray. What do you think he’ll get up to without you here? … On a more immediate note, either you complete your interrupted treatment program from yesterday, with the final three rounds conducted at the proper voltage and length of time, or I will restart his final session and administer all five rounds myself.” 

“You’re a monster.” I could feel my skin recoil. The revelation of who I have been working for all this time was worse than a surprise ice bath. “How could you be so …” and then I realized. Why she’s trying to manipulate me instead of just firing me like she’d threatened. She may be a monster, but she’s still afraid of bigger monsters. “You’re only willing to go through this treatment with your own two hands because he’s shackled to the table. You want me to do it so it looks like I’m giving in. So you can still hold on to your authority. Because you’re not going to fire me, Alera. You can’t. You said it yourself. Without me, he’s left to his own devices. Without me, you have a patient beyond our grading levels trapped in a small room with the greatest superpower he has – his mind. You’re afraid that he’ll find a way out and massacre everyone. And for some reason, you think that if I’m here keeping him occupied that’s not going to happen. … And it _has_ to be me because no one, including yourself, will work with him.” 

The rage the emanated from her now held an undercurrent of defeat. I was right and she hated that I knew it. That now, everyone on staff would know it. Though she was beaten, she still tried. “Do your job, Dr. Quinzel.” 

So I did. I went to the table and began to unbuckle the restraint holding his right arm. Someone grabbed me from behind and lifted me off the ground as they pulled me away. My shriek was echoed by a roar from the Joker. A glance showed me the same nurse from yesterday, a man used to bringing clinically insane patients where they didn’t want to go. He had a good eight inches on me in height, but it didn’t stop me from struggling to break free. “Simon, get the fuck off me!” 

“I’m disappointed, Harleen.” 

“Alera, you cannot do this. You have to see that this is completely insane!” Simon was still moving me backward, away from the table. 

“ _This_ is a perfectly legal therapeutic method.” 

“ _This is inhumane!_ You wouldn’t be doing this with any other patient. You and I both know it! We've had Batman bring his other enemies here and not _one_ of them went through electroshock!” 

“What the hell does Batman have to do with anything? This patient requires this treatment. End of story. Simon, you know what to do.” 

“ _What?!_ ” I struggled against his hold even harder, “Simon, what are you doing?! What? Simon? Stop!” 

He shoved me into the control room and entered, closing the door and standing in front of it since it didn’t lock. I tried to get to the doorknob with no success, watching my boss place a leather strap in the Joker’s mouth. 

“I’m not having another splinter incident like Strauss’s other patient. Make a note, no more wooden dowels!” one hand pointed at the nurse furiously scribbling on a legal pad. 

“ALERA! _Alera stop this!_ ” I slammed my hands against one of the windows as she took the electro-wands and placed them to his temples. It’s like I could feel the surge of electricity in the room. I screamed in horror before turning on Simon. “Let me out. Simon, you have to know this is wrong. Please, Simon, look me in the eye and tell me you don’t know in your bones it’s wrong. You can’t. You _know_ you can’t. Simon, _please_!” A second surge. “SHIT!” 

I punched him. To his credit, he took it without complaint or retaliation. And then I started looking frantically around the control room. It had been used more before the last set of upgrades, but there had to be something in there… The third surge started just as I spotted something. There was a box on the wall, which turned out to have a number of switches. Of course, none of these turned out to do anything. _Fuck._

Number four. “ _ALERA_!” 

That’s when I spotted an innocuous-looking part of a wire exposed in the corner of nearest me. I dove and grabbed hold of that wire and pulled with all my might. All the lights flickered, which spurred me further. I heard Alera scream for Simon and then I was crashing to the floor, a sharp snap coming down on my wrists and forcing me to drop the wire. Two seconds pause… 

Five. I burst into tears. 

The arms that had just inflicted pain suddenly turned tender and comforting. I beat at Simon with my fists furiously, enraged that he would dare pretend he was anything but a monster. “Don’t touch me! Get the – get the FUCK AWAY FROM ME.” 

I think my foot connected with his shin as he got up, but I don’t know. He was leaving as the witch walked in. She thought my emotion made me smaller than her. “Look at yourself,” she said. “You’re supposed to be a professional. No psychiatrist would pitch a fit like a little child. What’s become of you?” 

I wiped my face as I stood up and walked to within an inch of hers, “Look at _your_ self, Alera. You’re _supposed_ to be a _professional_. No self-respecting psychiatrist would willingly torture a patient under their care. Especially not one who’s cried over the use of lethal injection or been published in psychiatric journals demanding the end of electroconvulsive therapy. You have just betrayed everything you have ever claimed to stand for, including the oath you took when you got your doctorate. When you took over this asylum you swore that your mission was to improve the standard of care. You promised to put the patients first. But I suppose that doesn’t include a patient you’re afraid of, right? … _What’s become of you_?” 

Other nurses were helping him up from the table when I got out of the control room. They handed him off to the guards, but I called for them to wait. I approached the Joker, but when I looked in his eyes, they were off. Not just the color, which was just a half shade wrong enough to notice, but he wasn’t _there_. At least not fully. After a moment of quiet, during which I assume she was gathering herself, Alera’s voice rang out triumphantly behind me, “It will take a few hours for him to come back around. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, Dr. Quinzel? We’ll see you tomorrow.” 


	9. Chapter 9

I watched the guards take him out and silently left behind them. I spent the rest of the day vibrating with anger and could barely sleep. Coming back to work today was half fury at the thought of what I would do upon seeing Alera again, half horrifically worried about what was left of the Joker. 

I didn’t see Alera. I think she knew better than to show her face to me after I’d exposed her weakness to the staff and at least one patient. But when I saw him again, it was just as it had been the previous mornings. Straightjacket, ankles shackled to the chair. He pierced me with steely crystal eyes and I knew instantly that he was absolutely all there and was very, very angry with me. I walked to my chair and sat down, my pad and pen dropped in relief. I was just so happy to see that he hadn’t been harmed by the ECT. It took a second for it to register, the depth of hatred in his glower. _He blames me._ I thought. _But why? He has to know how hard I fought for him._

“Mr. Joker.” 

His reply was a tightening of the eyes and a growling grunt. _Right here, right now, his only weapon is silence. He knows. He knows how desperately I want to know everything he has to say. And_ _so,_ _his only way to punish me is the silent treatment. Well, if that’s what he wants, then we can sit here in my punishment until he’s decided I’ve served my time._

I sat and waited. I didn’t doodle. I didn’t fidget. I didn’t glance at the clock. If he wanted me to suffer through silence, then suffer I would. Both feet flat on the floor, hands placed in my lap, eyes on his. He knows that in his sessions he has my undivided attention. I’ll prove to him that’s still the case even when he’s decided to lash out. 

It was like a switch was flipped and the last hour erased. He greeted me as if I’d just sat down, “Mornin’, Doc.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Joker.” 

“Sleep well?” 

“No, actually. Did you?” 

“No.” 

“Why don’t we go back to our previous discussion. You were telling me about the man who came before the Joker. Will you tell me your name?” 

“Why? What does that matter?” 

“I have looked through some of the files on other enemies of Batman who have been current or former patients of the Asylum. There is one difference between you and them.” 

“I’m sure there are more than one.” He grinned at me. 

“There is one _striking_ difference between you and every other patient that has ever stepped foot inside Arkham. One line that is left blank only in one file – yours.” 

His grin dropped to a frown, “Name.” 

“Yes. Will you trust me with yours?” 

“Let’s play a game.” His grin returned and he shifted in his chair in anticipation. “I’ll give you four.” 

“Four?” 

“You want to know what pathetic soul died so I could be born, yes? That’s the ultimate point of this whole name question.” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, here’s the game, Dr. Quinzel. I’ll give you four stories. Four names. To win the game, you have to pick the right one.” 

“Ok.” If this is what it took to keep him talking, I didn’t see any harm in it. 

“Have you heard of the Red Hood Gang?” 

“Of course. I was still living in the dorms of Gotham University back then. I was terrified of going to the bank, thinking they’d hold it up while I was there. One of my professors spent an entire class discussing the fears related to living in a world where the possibility of being a victim of a heist isn’t a small one, and she used Red Hood as one of the main examples.” 

“Alright. James. James was a sadistic gangster. Not just a sadist, but the best torturer around. He didn’t just get information; James was an artist. He carved like a butcher, bringing forth screams like a conductor composing exquisite music. Every banger knew that if James was sent after them, they didn’t have long to live. Once caught, their best bet was to sing as fast and as loud as they could. The easier you made his job, the quicker he let you die. Unless he thought you sold out your friends too fast. See, James had loyalty. He served the head of his mob faultlessly. And when he thought you were disloyal, he’d make ya scream for days. Sometimes his sadism lasered in on one person, making them the subject of his experiments – how long can you torture someone, keep them begging for death, before it actually happens? That was a question James was determined to answer. … But as loyal as he was, as deeply invested into his mob as he was, James missed the early days. Back before he wasn’t pigeonholed as a torturer, he used to run heists. He used to inflict terror onto dozens of people at a time. So, he created the Red Hood. He grabbed some idiots from the neighborhood to fill out his gang, and he went out on heists. Just like the old days. It was a stupid, simple little joy. But it made him happy. He could serve his bosses and still inflict terror into fresh eyes daily. Until the day Batman stumbled across his last heist. He tried to slip the Bat by running into a nearby building, a chemical factory, as his gang scattered. But Batman pursued him with a fury. When the Bat finally caught up to him, he shoved James off the highest platform, into a bubbling vat of chemicals below.” 

Next was Jeremiah. 

“Jeremiah worked in a chemical lab. But he was horribly dissatisfied with his life. He dreamt of something bigger. So, he quit his job to become a stand-up comedian, confident that the uproarious laughter of a massive crowd was his destiny. While it would mean a giant question mark in the financial budget, Jeremiah’s wife supported his dream.” 

“Wife?” I couldn’t help interrupting. _Could he possibly be married??_

“Shhhh.” He admonished. “He went out to different clubs, trying out his material without much success. He hid his failures when he went home, especially after his wife gave him the news he would be a father.” _A child? He has a child out there? Not just a woman that he fell in love with and gave his heart to, but a child that shares his blood??_ “The pressures of a growing family weighed heavily on Jeremiah. He needed to provide, but his comedy wasn’t cutting it. One night while drowning his sorrows in the local bar, he was approached by two shifty men. They’d heard he was down on his luck, and they had the perfect solution. The last guy to play Red Hood, well he’d been shot by the police. They had one last big heist planned out to perfection. All they needed was someone to wear the mask. He asked why one of them didn’t wear it, but they insisted their roles were too crucial to be the man in the mask. Jeremiah refused, stating that he could never take part in something so unscrupulous. He went home to find his wife in a horrific state. She’d fainted earlier in the day, from hunger. Guilt gnawed at him as she begged for something to eat. He’d spent his last few dollars on beers while his heavily pregnant wife sobbed from hunger. He spent the next day in the bar, waiting for the men from the Red Hood gang. When they finally came in, he went to them immediately and told them he’d do what they wanted. He’d put on the mask. He’d be the face of the heist, as long as he got the money they promised. That night he went on the “last big heist” planned by the Red Hood gang. They were caught by Batman. Jeremiah watched as one by one the rest of the gang were picked off by the Bat. He ran home, sure that he had escaped the Caped Crusader’s grasp. But his relief was short-lived. He found his wife in their bathroom, dead. She had slipped in the shower and bled out while he was playing Red Hood. Seeing his wife and picturing their unborn child, both dead at his own fault, he despondently wandered Gotham, having completely forgotten that he still wore the mask of Red Hood. Batman found him easily, chasing him into the chemical plant he had quit from all that time ago, up onto the highest platform. Having already lost everything and having already seen how the Bat took out the rest of the gang, Jeremiah jumped to his death into a bubbling vat of chemicals below.” 

Then came Jack. 

“Jack was a talented criminal. The news shared stories of his exploits, but never his name. No one knew who he was, because he was just that good. But he was growing bored. He’d perfected his talents and hadn’t had an exciting experience in a long while. On one fateful jewelry heist, Jack barely escaped Batman’s interference. But that brush with the Caped Crusader was all it took. He was hooked, immediately obsessed. He’d seen glory in human form and was desperate to find it again. The week after his encounter was spent learning every last scrap of information out there. Then he created the Red Hood gang purely to spark a crime spree worthy of the Bat’s interest. It took much longer than he wanted, growing larger and larger until finally, his adversary took notice. Once the game began, Jack found himself entranced, spending the majority of his days plotting ways to toy with his enemy. Each encounter spurred him further, demanding he continue with the intensity of an addict desperate for his next fix. Until finally he uncovered the one truth Batman held most guarded – his biggest secret. Jack found out the Bat’s real name. And once he knew that, he was able to make his heists all the more pointed. Each one related to the true identity of Gotham’s supposed hero. He used the Red Hood gang as a shield while he plucked at the human connections the Bat would never admit to. Until the last one. The one he did solo. He went to Batman’s house and rang the bell. He meant to finish it. To kill the Batman and set himself free. But the Bat didn’t answer the door. He shot a servant. Some useless nobody. Only, it wasn’t a nobody. To his delight, Batman’s fire had been lit. The fury of his adversary was an unexpected light in the darkness of boredom. But he didn’t expect just how low the Bat would sink. Somehow, Batman found out the real identity of Red Hood. Somehow, Batman contacted every last one of the gangs he’d ever worked for and betrayed that identity. In pursuing his prize, he’d planned heists at the expense of every one of his previous employers. And now he found himself alone, hunted by everyone who was anyone in Gotham City. Eventually, the mobsters joined together in this one mission and cut off every last avenue of escape until he found himself trapped in the chemical factory. One by one the heads of each mob took their turns torturing him. It was while they bickered over who would be the one allowed the right to deal the final blow that he was able to escape his bonds. He ran, knowing he’d never make it out of the factory. Bullets flew around him no matter which corner he took. Eventually, he found himself on the highest platform of the chemical plant. He’d never expected his fascination with Batman would lead to this. Who would have thought that _Batman_ would stoop to letting mobsters finish his dirty work? Jack leapt out of the way of one last bullet, accidentally leaping off the platform in the attempt, down into a bubbling vat of chemicals below.” 

And finally, Jacob. 

“Jacob was an ingenious chemical expert working in a laboratory, his only job to find new concoctions and discovering what they did. There were no limitations, to his funds nor his creativity. His inventions led to medications and discoveries used in the public, commercial, and military worlds. Some things that started in his lab ended up on the shelves of big-box stores. Others were secreted away to the private sector, known only by him and the purchaser. Chemicals were second nature, a language he had decoded years before but had only recently realized could be used to his benefit. What wouldn’t be presented to the sole speaker of a language that bore the fruit of proverbial money redwoods? There was only one problem. When he had been hired, he didn’t read the conditions of his contract thoroughly. Too late Jacob realized that all of his work was being credited to the company he worked for. In a panic, he searched through every article that even mentioned anything he had worked on. He found his name nowhere. Not even initials. There was no mention of a creator beyond the company as a concept attached to any one of his projects, even the secret ones with the slightest of whispers in the deepest recesses of the web. No one knew who he was. He approached his seniors, at first requesting and then demanding that he be credited for his work. He pointed out that without him the company would have been long foreclosed by that point. He was laughed out of every office. At first, he was despondent. But soon that turned into an unholy fury. He was owed millions for his creations. And he was going to get every last cent. Jacob created the Red Hood with one mission in mind – destroy the company that had betrayed him. It took him longer than he liked to build enough credibility to form a fully functioning gang. Then he had to increase notoriety of his gang high enough to create a high level of fear in his enemies. Throughout all of this, he had to ensure that every single heist he pulled somehow connected back to that original company. He wouldn’t do anything if it didn’t somehow punish those who had wronged him. As he brought the Red Hood Gang out from the shadows, he slowly amassed the millions that had been rightfully his. On his final heist, the culmination of all of his work and the last thing he needed to complete before his revenge could finally launch the endgame, the last step before he could see the climax of his life’s work, Batman interfered. To his horror, he was chased into the chemical plant owned by the very company that stole his life’s work, up higher and higher as he ran to escape the Bat. And then he reaches the end, he has nowhere else to run. He turns to face the man responsible for the ending of what could have been the greatest story of revenge this pitiful city has ever seen, and all he can do is back away as this imposing figure of darkness encroaches. One final, false, step and Jacob falls to his death in a bubbling vat of chemicals below.” 

It took him the entire day to spin his tales. They were all so entrancing it was like I could see him in each one, a movie I watched in my mind brought to life as he was speaking. The last thing he said to me, as the guards were unshackling him and drawing him away from the table, the questions he asked that bore into my soul as his gaze bore into mine, “So who am I, Doc? What’s my name? … You decide.” 


	10. Chapter 10

We started the day with his demanding I tell him what my final decision had been. I asked if it was possible that pieces of each story could be what culminated in the truth. At first, he refused to answer in his insistence that I first answer his questions, but then admitted he’d had the same thought. Then I told him what I believed to be the name given to him at birth. 

“Jack. But I do think that there are pieces in other ‘origins’ that you created that ring true in what actually happened. … Well? Am I right?” 

“Sure. You win, Doc.” 

“Sure?” Of all the outcomes I’d thought of last night, none of them ended with ‘sure.’ With something proposed as a ‘game’ by the Joker, I was certain there’d be a much flashier ending. “A game always has a set ending, doesn’t it?” 

“That’s just it. It’s supposed to. But I …” he stopped, frustrated. There was a short-lived war within himself and I was left wondering just what it could have been about. “I don’t know. Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another. I dream them, and they’re so clear. But when I wake it’s all a haze. I thought … I just thought that if anyone knew, it would be you.” 

_What the hell am I supposed to say to that?_ My heart positively thrummed and I know there was a flood of color to my cheeks. It was a fight to maintain some semblance of professionalism. There was a beat or two of pause, where I felt his gaze burning holes into me, knowing that he was reveling in my very human, very unprofessional reaction to his words. He knew exactly how to throw me and he wasn’t going to give me a single second’s reprieve. 

“If I’m going to have a past, I’d like it to be multiple choice.” _Because the past doesn’t matter to you. Nothing before the Joker matters. Personal history didn’t make him, those chemicals did._

“There were three common threads in each of the stories you told me yesterday. One being the chemical factory with it’s one specific platform and bubbling vat, then, of course, the Red Hood gang, but there was one other… Let’s talk about Batman.” 

He growled low, hairless brows knitting together. “I don’t wanna talk about the Bat.” 

“He’s captured you before, but he was far more vicious this time. Why?” 

“You’d have to ask him.” He muttered. 

“I’m asking _you_.” 

He stared at me hard, anger etched in his expression. But then he relaxed and a slow smile stretched across his face. “Fine. I’ll tell you. It’s because I shot his little pet.” 

“Batman had a dog?” 

At that, he laughed hysterically. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. A daughter-figure. Surely you’ve heard of Batgirl?” 

There hadn’t been much talk of the third crime fighter in Gotham City. She didn’t seem to be partnered with Batman and Robin very long before she vanished from the city streets. Apparently, the Joker was the reason for her disappearance. 

“You killed her?” 

He frowned, “No. She survived.” Then he grinned, “Though last I heard she lost the use of her legs.” 

He cackled with glee at having crippled the former crime fighter. 

“So, Batman’s vengeance was taking your teeth.” I mused. 

“That was a side effect.” He corrected. 

“To what?” 

“Their _rage_.” He whispered with delight. “The Bat and the Bird were so lost in their fury that they couldn’t control their fists.” 

These were supposed to be the good guys. They claimed to be the protectors of Gotham, and yet they battered a mentally ill man because they couldn’t control themselves. Some protectors they were. I frowned at the thought that these men were still running loose around the city. 

The Joker correctly guessed the reason for my frown and spoke reassuringly, “I’ll get ‘em back. I always do. And when the Bat sees me next, he’s gonna come face to face with exactly what happens when he loses control. He’s gonna hafta face the way he _damaged_ me.” He bared his teeth and the metal gleamed in the bright lights. 

“Your tattoo…” I marveled, my eyes flicking up to view the script below his hairline. “You got it in here?” 

He smirked, “George agreed I deserved a little treat. He had my favorite artist brought in to adorn my forehead… Didn’t save him, though.” 

“George … you mean Dr. Diaz?” This wasn’t in any of his notes. I reminded myself to read the file again. _Maybe I missed something?_

“I know who I mean,” he snarled. “The one who’s neck I snapped for having a stupid name.” 

I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question that had buzzed in the back of my mind since first reading his file. “Why didn’t you kill Johann so quickly, then?” 

He froze for a moment, clearly surprised by the question. Then he leaned forward and licked his lips. “Who?” 

It’s not right what flashed in my mind when I saw that tongue flick out. I cleared my throat and my thoughts and forced myself to focus. “Johann. … Strauss?” 

He growled and it quickly grew into a wild roar. “THAT WAS HIS NAME?!” 

The chains began to rattle madly as he started to violently struggle against his straightjacket, twisting side to side in his chair. Three rapid knocks at the door warned the guards would be inside any second. I had to get control of this situation and fast. 

“Dr. Quinzel!” the masculine voice called from the other side of the door and I heard the knob squeak. 

“WE’RE FINE!” I screamed, jumping from my seat and rushing around the small table. My hip knocked it aside as I planted myself in front of him. 

“Doctor!” the voice called again. 

I whirled to the door and used the most authoritative voice I could muster to order, “STAY. OUT.” 

The Joker was still struggling wildly against his restraints so I placed my hands on either side of his face and coaxed, “Mr. Joker, look at me.” 

His head pulled away violently, trying to break my hold but I wouldn’t let go. I don’t know what came over me, and my hands are shaking at the thought of actually admitting this, but I planted one knee at each of his hips and sat down on his lap. I strengthened my grip and pulled his face inches away from mine. “J.” I whispered. “Look at me.” 

His body tensed, but it stilled his movements. And when he opened his eyes, they stared with laser focus right into mine. My heart dropped straight into my stomach. My mouth was instantly dry and if there is a god, he damned me at that moment by sucking every thought from my mind. 

I could feel his breath on my lips. I was so frozen in the experience that I think I stopped breathing. I could see my eyes reflected in his. Never in my life have I been so close to someone. Even the kisses I shared with my ex-boyfriends didn’t compare to the intensity of my face inches away from Joker’s. I’ve never experienced something so … intimate. I hate to use that word, because he is my patient, but there really is no other way of describing the feeling of that moment. 

I don’t know how long we sat like that … my hands on his cheeks, our noses almost touching. It could have been five seconds; it could have been an hour. To me, it felt like an eternity. 

He broke the spell by moving forward. I won’t say that it was to kiss me, because the notion is absurd. But he moved and my brain slammed back into my head and I threw myself backward off of him. My heart pounded wildly in my chest and I nearly tripped over my chair as the backs of my legs hit it. I couldn’t break his gaze, and god help me, I tried desperately. The look on his face as he watched me could only be described as hungry. I backed to the door and flailed to grasp the knob. When I finally grabbed it, I twisted and pulled in one motion, whirling around the door and straight into the back of one of the guards. 

“Dr. Quinzel!” another guard spun and reached out to catch me from falling. He pulled me in front of him and steadily righted me. “Are you alright?” 

“This session is over.” I gasped. And then I ran straight to my office. My hands trembled so violently I couldn’t get the key to work at first. When I finally got it unlocked, I threw the door open and slammed it closed immediately. I locked the door, and then put my back against it before sliding down to the floor and gasping to catch my breath. What did I do? 

_What did I do?_


	11. Chapter 11

Without an afternoon therapy, he was supposed to have another session sometime after lunch. But I couldn’t face him again. I sent an email to Alera, claiming I wasn’t feeling well, and scurried home to my apartment. I wished I had other patients. Maybe then I could have been distracted from what had happened between us that morning. 

My mind was a fuzzy mess. I found myself running a bath and adding various salts and oils. _This will help me relax_ I assured myself as I undressed and climbed into the scalding water. I sank down as deep as I could, letting the heat burn away my shame. 

_I sat on his lap_. 

My head shook as one hand reached up and cupped my cheek. Though I fought it, it all began to replay in my mind. Perhaps it was foolish of me to bring up Johann. It had just never occurred to me that the doctor wouldn’t have introduced himself. Maybe Strauss decided to skip his first name after reading about what had happened to Jorje. That would only have been the smart thing to do. 

_Just like it would have been smart not to mention Johann._

Was I foolish to think that I could handle a patient with needs as intense as the Joker? 

_Oh, I know what you really mean, Doc. You wanna hear about my_ ** _needs_** _._

Pink flushed my cheeks as I recalled all of his flirtations. 

_Yeah, I think I could show you_ ** _pleasure._ **

_Oh, I think you’re_ ** _comfortable_** _with me, Dr. Quinzel._

_Don’tcha wanna_ ** _play_** _?_

I shivered as his words slid down my spine. That familiar tightness bunched between my legs and my right hand slowly trailed down my torso to settle between my lower lips. Once again, I saw my eyes reflected in his, felt his breath on my skin. Gently, one finger circled my clit and the nub instantly hardened. 

I felt him move forward, and in my mind, I didn’t pull away. His lips met mine and I melted into him, pouring all of myself into his kiss. My finger continued to rub in circles, gaining speed until my whole body trembled with desire for release. I imagined his arms wrapping around me, pulling me closer, pressing me against his muscled chest. With a shudder and a cry, my orgasm rippled through me. And upon riding to the end of the wave, I was instantly overcome with shame. 

_He’s my patient. I shouldn't_ _think of him that way._

_But I want to._

I shook my head again and sat up in the bath. Where had that come from? I don’t want to think of him that way, I want to help him. I want to do my job well, bring him back to sanity. I want to cure him. 

_I want him._

I stood up in the tub, water cascading down my form. The heat must be boiling my brain. My toe pulled the plug from the drain and the water started to gurgle down the pipe. I snatched up a towel and dried myself quickly before running to my bedroom and throwing on a pair of pajamas. The turn of my thoughts was disquieting and I needed to clear my mind before I went mad. 

I clicked on the television, flicking through channels before settling on a made-for-TV movie. Anything to distract me from obtrusive thoughts. Though I couldn’t tell you what the movie was about. I stared intently at the screen as if I could will my brain to forget the Joker and focus on … what is this? A romcom? _How fucking stupid can you be, Harleen?_

I switched channels again, scanning through my limited package. For a moment I considered watching the news, but as soon as they started describing the latest string of mom-and-pop store robberies I started thinking about Johann’s notes and the many crimes committed by the Joker detailed therein. My finger pressed the channel up button again and again. Cop drama, sitcom, gangster movie, Judge Judy, … Oh good. A game show. _That should work._

I tossed the remote onto the coffee table and tried to focus on the TV, but inevitably my thoughts would always return to Joker. Things he’d said to me, his laugh, his crimes. Something always popped up. I found myself wondering what it was like to be that uninhibited. He answered to no one, not even the laws, and damn if there weren’t any consequences for it. 

_Except for the Bat and his partner._

The “heroes” of Gotham. More like the assholes of Gotham. 

My whole life I’ve towed the proverbial line. Done what I was told, done what I should, and never questioned if there might not be another way. But Joker … he does whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he lives his life exactly as he wishes. I find myself a little jealous that he’s discovered how to throw off the shackles of propriety. He may be “crazy,” but he’s _free._

_Well, not now…_

I have to stop thinking about him. So I’ll just go to bed. I’m going to take some over the counter sleep aids to ensure my stupid brain doesn’t keep me up, and then I’m going to knock out until morning. 

No more thoughts about the Joker. 


	12. Chapter 12

My plan didn’t turn out as well as I’d hoped. Instead of a night free of the man that has plagued my mind, I spent the hours dreaming of him. I won’t go into them here. A few were … x-rated. The others, just confusing. I saw myself doing things that I would never consider while awake. Perhaps my mind took the idea of “freedom” and ran with it. But in a pretty disturbing way. 

Anyways, I knew Alera wouldn’t accept a callout without a doctor’s note, and there was no way I could con the local clinic into finding me sick, so I forced myself to go to work. To say that I was anxious about seeing my patient again would be an understatement. 

The morning was a blur and before I knew it, I was walking down to security 1 again. I took a few deep breaths, told myself that I was in control, and strode into the room. As usual, he was already inside and chained to his chair. 

I avoided eye contact as I crossed the floor and sat down, placing my legal pad and pen on the table, the brown Styrofoam cup of coffee I set down next to the paper. _How is this going to go?_

“Where were you?” there was no malice, just curiosity. 

“I wasn’t feeling well.” I picked up the coffee, taking a sip while making a note on the pad so I didn’t have to look at him yet. 

He snorted. “I think you felt _fiiine_ , doctor.” 

I tried not to but I flushed. 

“I know I did.” 

My eyes widened and instantly flicked up to his in shock. His smile was … well, it certainly wasn’t helpful. None of this was helpful. 

“Dr. Harleen Quinzel.” _Why does he have to same my name like that?_ “Do your friends call you Harley?” 

I started in surprise. “I … I don’t actually have any friends.” 

Sure, there had been a few in college, but once I was hired at Arkham I had less time for them and we sort of just drifted apart. 

He gave me that smile that made my stomach flip. “Well, you do now.” 

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back at him. The thought of him being my friend filled me with happiness. 

“Tell me, Haaarley,” He drew out my name in a way that made my breath catch in my throat. “What is your … _darkest desire_ _?_ ” 

There was a beat of silence as I fought to slow my pulse and learn to breathe again. Why did my voice have to sound so husky when I spoke? “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question.” 

“Come now,” he leaned forward. “I think we both know we’ve crossed the line of what’s _appropriate_ for this doctor/patient … _relationship_.” 

My face burned a bright red. _How does he have so much control over me?_ _And why do I_ **_like_** _it?_

“About yesterday,” I started. 

But he cut me off with, “Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shhhhh.” 

I cleared my throat and tried again, “Mr. Joker.” 

“J.” he corrected. 

My eyes caught his and he smiled, though I was busily mortified at the memory of the one time I had called him “J.” For a moment I found myself at a loss for words, and he took the opportunity to bring me back. 

“Tell me.” He cajoled. “Tell me, tell me, tell meee.” 

I blinked, having forgotten what we were talking about. “Tell you what?” 

“Your darkest desire.” 

I shook my head. I had no intention of providing him with that. 

“You swore you’d never lie to me.” 

“It’s not a lie to not answer a question.” 

He locked his eyes onto mine, staring into me in the way that only he could. “ _Please._ ” 

I answered without meaning to. “To lose control.” 

The way he smiled told me he liked the answer I gave him. “Gooooood.” He purred. 

I rubbed my thighs together, trying to stop my body from reacting to his voice the way it was. I could feel wetness in my underwear. 

“Don’tcha wanna know mine?” his tone was low, inviting. 

“No,” I said quickly. A second passed and I whispered, “Yes.” 

He grinned approvingly. “One day I’ll tell ya.” 

“I told you mine.” I pouted. Let me repeat that. _I pouted_. What the hell is going on with me? 

His eyes locked onto my mouth, staring with desire. That tongue of his showed itself again as it licked over blood-red lips and I felt myself leaning forward. He was perched on the edge of his seat, leaning into the table. My legs straightened, lifting me from my chair as I was drawn towards him. I rested my arms on the table, his magnetic aura pulling me into him. Once again, I found my face inches away from his. 

He snapped his teeth at me and I pulled back slightly. He grinned, the smile growing wider as his eyes lifted to stare into mine. His voice was low and commanding when he said, “Come here, baby.” 

I obeyed. I don’t know where my mind disappeared to. I had no control over my thoughts or my body. I pressed myself forward, crossing the short distance quickly, and my lips met his. He groaned against my mouth, and my vocal cords responded with a moan of my own. 

His lips parted, drawing me in further. My senses overloaded, filling with nothing but him. 

_This is dangerous_ _._

I didn’t care. I could die this very second and it would be worth it. 

_The security camera!_

I pulled away then, landing heavily in my seat as my knees gave out. If Alera checked the tapes, I would lose my job for sure. 

He breathed heavily for a moment, then cracked, “You’re not gonna run away again, are ya?” 

I shook my head, not trusting my voice. 

“Good.” He was watching me carefully, no doubt weighing my reactions to what had just occurred. 

I couldn’t catch my breath. My heart thundered in my chest and butterflies swam in my stomach. I don’t know how long it took for me to settle, but when I finally got some control of myself I spoke softly. “We can’t do that again.” 

“Why?” He demanded. 

I held one finger up in the direction of the camera. “If Dr. Standness checks the recordings, she won’t hesitate to fire me.” 

“Am I not worth it?” he snickered mercilessly. 

I refused to answer that question. “If I lose this job, I’ll never see you again. And you’ll be locked in your cell 24/7.” 

He frowned. “Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen.” 

I smiled with relief. “Yes.” 

He eyed me appraisingly, pausing a moment before asking, “So what now, Harley?” 

I took a slow breath. “Tell me more about you.” 

Another smile took over his features and he launched into what had to be the most gruesome story I have ever heard. He never broke eye contact, never lost his smile as he talked of blood and guts and brain matter, exposed bones, an eye being pulled from its socket and then squeezed until it exploded. The tale dripped from his tongue and he reveled in all the sanguine details. If it hadn’t have been for my dreams … nightmares? the night before, I might have been disgusted. But my brain had already concocted a similar story, so hearing this one didn’t affect me as he might have hoped. Even as he was speaking I wondered if he had chosen this particular story in effort to frighten me. I wondered what he thought of my overall lack of reaction. 

“Wait, I thought you said he was dead already.” I broke in for clarification. 

He stopped dead, blinking a few times. “What?” 

“The man with the red hair. You sliced his stomach open and watched his intestines fall out.” I recounted what he had told me like I was reciting football scores. 

“Different redhead.” He eyed me suspiciously. 

I nodded and made a motion for him to continue. He did, slowly, as if he were unsure, but eventually he got back into his story and it finished with gusto. 

“And that’s how I met my man, Jonny.” 

Three raps knocked at the door, and it opened a half-second later. “Lunch.” Explained one of the guards when I looked up. 

I turned back to my patient. “I’ll see you this afternoon.” 

“See ya, Haaaarley.” He drawled. 

And then they unshackled him and led him from the room. 


	13. Chapter 13

When I got back to my office, Alera was already inside. Which aggravated me, because I know I locked the door when I’d left. Yes, she has keys to every single lock in the massive building, but I would hope she would have more respect for me and my personal space than to just waltz in whenever she felt like it. 

“I trust you’re feeling better?” She rose a brow at me. 

My smile was thin, “Much.” 

She nodded and got to the point. “I want an update.” 

“It’s going well. I can already see progress.” 

“What kind of progress?” she pressed. 

“He’s opening up. I don’t know if it’s leftover from the strides he made with Dr. Strauss, but he’s not as reserved with me as he was with the others.” 

“It’s just his narcissistic personality wanting to talk about himself.” She waved a hand dismissively 

I frowned at her. _You don’t know shit about him._ “I don’t think so. He was just as megalomaniacal when he first arrived here, but he didn’t talk to Sanjay, Diaz, Hemmings, or the others like this.” 

An idea formed in my mind and I decided to press my luck. “In fact, I’d like to reward him for his progress.” 

She gave me a look that said she wasn’t impressed. “You want to reward a patient for simply speaking to his therapist?” 

“I want to encourage positive momentum.” I corrected. “Keep him on the right track.” 

“And just how do you suggest we do that?” 

I swallowed nervously and prayed she wouldn’t read anything in my expression. “I’d like to show him that trust goes both ways. If he is going to trust me, I am going to trust him.” 

She raised an unimpressed brow. “By?” 

“Seeing him in my office.” 

She scowled. “Harleen-“ 

“Johann saw him in his office,” I interjected. 

“Strauss had been working with the patient for months before that happened. You’ve seen him five days.” 

“Which is why his honesty is so refreshing. It took how long before Strauss started to get anywhere?” 

She studied me a moment, and I did my best to keep my face impassive. I had to act as if this was just like any other patient. _No ulterior motives here…_

Finally, she acquiesced, “Fine. _Monday._ If he can make it through the weekend without any incidents, and I mean _any_ incidents, you may see him in your office on Monday.” 

I couldn’t hold it back and I beamed at her. “Thank you, Dr. Standness.” 

“That’s a _big_ if.” 

I nodded, “Thank you.” 

“Don’t make me regret this, Harleen.” 

I shook my head and she sighed before walking out. I couldn’t wait to tell him. 

_He’ll be so pleased with me._

I knew I was too excited to eat, so I waited as long as I could in my office before deciding to make a cup of coffee in the breakroom and carrying it to security 1. It gave my hands something to do. I shifted impatiently in my seat, absently taking sips of coffee as I waited for the guards to bring him back. Minutes felt like hours; I was so anxious to see him. 

Finally, the door opened and the guards led him in, sitting him down before locking the shackles to his chair. He eyed me with a grin. “You were waiting for me.” 

I waited until I heard the click of the door closing before I spoke. “I have some good news.” 

“Oh?” 

My eyes were positively dancing as I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table for support. “I talked with Dr. Standness this morning.” 

He frowned, eyes hard. “I don’t like her.” 

“I don’t either,” I confessed. “I used to think she was my friend, but this past week has proven that I am no more than a pawn to her.” 

“Then why do you look so happy?” 

I smiled. “Because she’s agreed to let me see you in my office.” 

He didn’t respond, so I continued conspiratorially, “There are no cameras in my office.” 

Laughter bubbled forth from him and he grinned wickedly. “You want to be _alone_ with me.” 

Slight pink touched my cheeks, but I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. Then I remembered Alera’s condition. “She’ll only allow it as long as you behave over the weekend.” 

His wicked grin only intensified, “I think that can be arranged.” 

I wasn’t sure how to transition back from giddy happiness to running a psychotherapy session. While I was trying to figure that out, he appeared to be musing. Finally, he spoke, almost to himself. “I used to be … _normal_ ,” he said the word with a sneer of disdain. “Then I took a bath in some chemicals and became a god.” 

_If he’s a god, he’s the only one I could ever serve._

“You shed your humanity and attained godhood,” _sometimes it’s_ _good to work within the confines of a patient’s delusions_ I tried to convince myself. “Do you give even the tiniest credit to Batman for his part in your transition?” 

“Batman? Batman?!” he cackled, “He’s my very favorite joke! .. No, no, no, the Bat is no more than a fly to be swatted. Let me tell you more about my man Jonny.” 

Jonny Frost, his chauffeur and right-hand man, had been working for the Joker for years. There were many sanguine stories to share about their exploits and it seemed he chose the best of them to share. Then he told me about his one legitimate business – the club he had purchased a few years back, that he had named “The Smile and Grin”. We discussed everything he planned for once he got out of Arkham. The more he shared, the happier I became. It didn’t matter that everything he told me was gruesome (his plans for payback were particularly wild.) He had opened up to me in a way I could never have foreseen. 

Leaving on Friday was incredibly difficult. I had the weekend off. Two whole days without seeing my Joker. 

Saturday dragged. My weekends used to be filled with paperwork. But when Alera took my other patients, she took all my busy work too. I had nothing with which to preoccupy the hours. When I was sure the majority of the day had passed, I was disappointed to find it was only 10 AM. 

I went to a movie, got some lunch, did a little shopping. By the time I got back home, it was evening. And then a brilliant idea popped into my head. 

I put on some of the new clothes I had bought, did my makeup with an intense smoky eye and a bright red lip, and went downstairs to catch a cab. The ride was only slightly longer than I expected, but I soon found myself standing outside of the Joker’s nightclub. I paid the entry fee and walked inside the most opulent space I have ever seen. The décor was fancy, gold everywhere, just as beautiful as he had described. I didn’t want to guess how much it costs to run the place, never mind what it would have cost to purchase it. 

_He didn’t tell me it was a strip club._

I’d never been to any kind of club before, never mind one where women danced naked. The first half-hour I spent clinging to the walls, watching everyone else as they watched the girls, as they themselves danced and flirted and drank. Eventually, I wandered over to the bar. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” The man who had spoken was not exactly unattractive. He had brown hair and kind eyes. And a beard. I’m not huge into facial hair. 

I didn’t want to say yes and have him think I was flirting, so instead, I answered, “I have a boyfriend.” 

He seemed to find that funny. “That’s not what I asked.” 

So I nodded. “As long as you know this isn’t going anywhere … white wine?” 

He called to the bartender, “Yo, Benny! Gimme a white wine for the lady and I’ll have a scotch on the rocks.” 

Benny started fixing the drinks and the first man turned to face me. “So what’s your boyfriend’s name?” 

“Jo-“ I caught myself from saying something I would definitely have regretted. “Joey.” 

He chuckled and held out a hand. “Jon.” 

“Harley.” I really loved the nickname Joker had picked for me. Jon shook my hand and then accepted the drinks from Benny. 

He held out the wine glass, which I accepted gratefully. “Enjoy, Harley.” He lifted his tumbler in a salute and I clinked my glass to his. 

“Thank you, Jon.” I smiled and took my first chilled sip. It was divine. He gave me a nod farewell and moved away from the bar. I perched on a cushioned barstool and continued to people watch. My eyes kept dragging back to the strippers and I’m not ashamed to say I enjoyed watching them dance. 

Another man offered me a shot before I had even finished my wine. I declined, but he had Benny leave it in front of me anyways. About five minutes after draining my glass I thought _Fuck it_ and knocked back the shot. A group of young women approached and ordered a round of Lemon Drops. 

“You want one?” Asked a tipsy brunette. “It’s my bachelorette party!” 

“Sure.” I smiled. They all clinked shot glasses with me before shouting. “Mailleaux!!” 

“Is that a toast?” I asked the brunette. 

“My fiancé’s last name,” she laughed, and then she turned back to Benny, “Two more for all my girls!” 

He set about fixing the long line of shots as the woman started sharing details about her upcoming nuptials. Soon enough the bridal party picked up their shots and moved on. Benny placed two more Lemon Drops in front of me. 

“Oh, I don’t think she meant me!” I tried to give them back but he just shrugged. 

“They’re already on their tab. You might as well take ‘em.” 

“You want one?” I picked it up and held it towards him. 

The bartender took the offered shot, downed it, and flipped the glass upside down onto the bar. “Thanks.” 

He moved on to another customer and I swallowed the booze quickly. A few more people bought me drinks. I lost track of how many. More than I should have accepted for sure. I’m pretty sure I bought a few rounds as well. My bank statement will probably confirm that for me. I was thoroughly drunk before long. 

I felt someone press up against my back and heard a voice close by my ear. “Hey, sexy. You wanna come home with me?” 

I turned around to find a boy no more than eighteen leaning entirely too close into my space. He tried to smirk but he just looked constipated. I snorted and shook my head. “Nah.” 

“Aw, come on, beautiful. I could show you a really good time.” His thumb brushed my cheek. I didn’t like him touching me. 

“Aren’t you a little young to be hitting on me … to be in here?” I was saying things I didn’t intend to say. 

He winked at me. “Don’t tell anyone.” 

I frowned. This guy was starting to get on my nerves. I pushed his hand away from my face. “Don’t touch me.” 

I went to slide off the barstool, but he grabbed onto my arm. “Where you goin’?” 

I tried to pull my arm away, but his grip just got tighter. “Get off of me!” 

Out of nowhere, a fist shot out and hit the kid square across the face. He was on the ground in seconds. I followed the fist up the arm, across the shoulder, and to Jon’s bearded face. _Where the hell_ _did_ _he come from?_

Jon looked to Benny and ordered, “Get security to kick this guy out. And ban him.” 

Benny nodded and picked up a phone from under the bar. 

“Let’s get you a cab home,” Jon said to me. 

“Thanks, Jon.” 

He brought me outside, hailed a cab, and paid for the fare. “Make sure she gets home safe.” 

The cabbie nodded and I fell asleep on the ride back to my apartment. I don’t even remember how I got inside. But I woke in my bed at noon the following day with a nasty hangover. 

It’s 9 fucking 30 PM and I’m only just now starting to feel better. I’m never drinking again. 

I only just realized I haven’t heard from or seen Andy since I snapped at him over text. And I don’t care. 

Tomorrow I will be completely unsupervised with Mr. J. 


	14. Chapter 14

My body was positively vibrating with excitement on my way into work. I practically danced down the sidewalk toward Arkham. 

_I shouldn’t be this happy about seeing my patient._

_Aw, shut up. Who fucking cares?_

I made my way to my office in Max, straightening things in preparation for his session. Continually my eyes looked to the clock, urging the hands to move faster. Finally, there was a knock at the door and I rushed to it, though I paused to take a breath before actually pulling it open. 

There he was, in all his glory. The guards pushed him inside and turned to leave. 

“Excuse me,” I stopped them and pointed to the white coat that covered his upper half. “I don’t allow straightjackets in my office.” 

The male guard looked back and forth from me to Joker before worriedly asking, “You sure?” 

I arched a brow, “Are you questioning doctor’s orders?” 

“No ma’am,” replied both the guards and they set to removing his straightjacket as J eyed me with a victorious smirk. 

“Did you enjoy your weekend?” His voice sounded taunting. 

I shrugged, “It was fine.” 

One of the guards handed me the half-folded straightjacket as the other clicked on the white noise machine. All the offices had one, for the confidentiality of the patients. They walked out into the hall and J closed the door, his fingers flicking the lock. That one simple motion had my heart in my throat. 

He turned to face me with a grin. “We’re officially alone.” 

“Won’t you take a seat?” I gestured to the couch against one wall as rain started to patter against my windows. 

He didn’t go straight for the furniture, instead strolling around the room as his eyes took in everything. And as he passed by the varying lamps he clicked them off one by one until there was only one left illuminating, the overhead lights already dark. Then he rolled onto the couch, lying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. 

“Pain is pleasure, Doc.” He started and I pulled out a chair to face him, sitting down with my legs crossed. “Pleasure is pain. … I hope you’ll let me teach you one day.” 

I ignored that. “How was _your_ weekend?” 

He frowned. “Long.” 

_I know the feeling._

He tilted his head to look at me, “I’m sure you agree.” 

_Can he read my mind?_

I cleared my throat, “What would you like to discuss today, Mr. Joker?” 

“Harley,” he admonished, “call me J.” 

My teeth caught the corner of my lower lip as I remembered sitting on his lap. There was nothing to stop me from doing it again. Except for _me_ , of course. 

Those blue eyes cast up at the ceiling again. “I wanna talk about desire.” 

I felt my cheeks flush with anticipation. As he continued, his hands began to move while he talked. It was thrilling to see him so unencumbered and I fell entranced to his movements, eyeing the card suit tattoos that adorned his right knuckles as they flashed in my direction occasionally. 

“I have everything I could ever want. Everything that could be bought, I own it all.” His hands danced in the air above him and his voice took on a magical tone. “I have things I didn’t even know existed. … But there’s one thing I don’t have.” 

“And what is that?” 

“A _queen_.” There was a beat of pause and he continued, “I never needed one. The King of Gotham rules alone. Well … not completely alone.” He grinned wickedly. “I never lacked company in my bed. This city is full of girls just waiting to be plucked up, used, and thrown aside.” 

I tried my hardest not to picture Joker’s bed. 

“And use them I did. I had my fun and sent them on their way. … Most of them anyway.” He glanced over at me again, speaking a low gravelly tone, “They didn’t all survive.” 

_I should be afraid._ But I wasn’t. The most psychotic man in Gotham had my full, complete trust. 

“You killed them.” My voice was filled with awe. 

His eyes flicked back to the ceiling with disgust. “They were boring. Or _clingy_. It doesn’t matter if they lived or died, they were all the same. Unsatisfying.” 

“So why need a queen?” 

“I don’t.” he snapped. “I don’t _need_ anything.” 

“But desire…” 

“Ah, now that’s different.” A slow smile curved his features. “See, I never wanted for anyone or anything. What use to me is a woman? … But now, nearly half a year has passed since I was last touched. I find myself … _wanting._ ” 

A delicious shudder swept down my spine. 

“Not just anyone. No, she has to be perfect. Powerful … wild … she’ll rule this city at my side and everyone will fear her. She takes what she wants with no apologies and fuck anyone who says otherwise. … A total sex kitten. Yeah.” Though his eyes drifted closed, his hands never stopped moving above him. “She’ll fuck whoever she wants, but she’ll always come back to me. Because I will be the only thing she truly _needs_.” 

“You don’t want her loyalty?” 

“Loyalty? Ha! Loyalty doesn’t mean monogamy. Loyalty means that everything she does is for _me_. What do I care who she has between her legs when I own her soul?” 

“So you want someone you can own.” 

“She will _belong_ to me. Mind, body, soul. And she’ll know what I know to be true.” 

“Which is?” 

His eyes opened then and locked onto mine. “ _Pain is pleasure._ ” 

I felt a flood of wetness spread into my underwear. 

“Those chemicals didn’t just make me crazy. They _unlocked my cells_. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain … they are intertwined. I enjoy being beaten because it feels _glorious_. And when I cum, it’s like my body has caught on fire. There is no pleasure without pain, Harley. They are _one and_ _the same_.” 

_Why is this turning me on?_

“All that pussy didn’t satisfy because those girls didn’t understand. They didn’t _submit._ ” 

“Submit?” 

“Surely you’ve come across domination and submission in all that psychobabble.” He vaguely gestured to the bookshelf littered with books. 

I couldn’t keep the lust from invading my tone. “You want to dominate her.” 

“She will _need_ to submit. Nothing will ever compare to my domination and I’ll be the only one who can ever really get her to cum. Because –“ And here we spoke together, “Pain is pleasure.” 

He smiled at me, enjoying the way I yearned for him. “That’s my fetish, Doc. Cum. I want to bathe in her juices. I want to cover her in my fluids and watch as she spreads them onto people unawares. I want to make her orgasm until she forgets how to breathe.” 

My pussy clenched and trembled as my breath caught in my lungs. Everything he said was intoxicating. _I want that._

“And that’s why she’ll be mine. I’ll own her because she wants to be owned. She’ll never leave because _I_ will hold the key to everything she wants.” 

He sat up suddenly then, one swift motion that had his bare feet on the floor. He stared into me, melting my will to his. One hand patted the couch next to him and he said, “Come over here, Doc. Sit next to me.” 

_I shouldn’t do this._ But my body responded, carrying me across the short distance to settle next to him. He turned to face me, placing a hand on my knee. Electricity jolted through me from his touch. I found myself struggling to breathe normally. 

“Do you want me?” His voice was a caress that slithered over my form. 

_Don’t answer that!_

“Yes,” I whispered. 

_Damnit!_

A low, seductive growl trilled between his teeth. And then his lips were crushing mine, his palms on either side of my jaw, fingers trailing around the back of my head. He pulled me into him, drawing me closer. My lower lip was sucked into his mouth and he nibbled, sending shockwaves pulsing to my pussy. His hands trailed down from my face, rubbing over my breasts before traveling lower. Before I could even realize what he was doing, they were under my skirt and yanking on my underwear. 

“I’m gonna make this little kitty _purr._ ” 

And then he was kneeling on the floor, pulling my hips to the edge of the couch. He roughly shoved my skirt up around my waist before pushing my legs up and exposing my pussy. One long lick up my folds and I could already feel the need for release. 

“Mmmmm.” He moaned against my flesh. “Just like pumpkin pie.” 

He licked again, lapping at the fluid that was coating me before sucking my clit into his mouth. I groaned, my hands fluttering down to curl in his hair. He suckled like a babe, driving me higher. And then he bit down on the nub with those metal teeth and I came, squirting my juices on his chin. 

“ _Good girl_.” He praised before thrusting his tongue inside me. 

I pulled away, but his hands gripped onto my hips, dragging me closer. Whenever I took care of myself, I always stopped after orgasm, figuring the deed was done. Clearly J didn’t agree with that mentality. 

In and out his tongue danced and I felt another climax building. _He really knows what he’s doing._ When I came again, he drank from my opening, swallowing as noisily as he could. Then he pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and staring at me with lust. 

“Lay down.” He ordered and I did, never breaking his gaze. He climbed onto the couch, kneeling between my legs, and pushed down his Arkham issue sweatpants. 

I felt the tip of his cock slide up and down my folds and my eyes rolled back in my head. The pleasure that filled every corner of my body was exquisite. I felt delirious. 

Long fingers curled around my throat and he posed a question. “Tell me, doctor. Your darkest desire… you wanna _lose_ _control_ ?” And then he bent over me, his cock pressing at my opening, teasing entry. His breath washed over my face and his tone was dangerous. “ _Or do you wanna give it to me_?” 

I shuddered as ripples of pleasure swept through me. 

As he’d spoken, his fingers drew tighter against my neck, slowly squeezing more and more until air would no longer pass through my throat. I attempted to nod but only managed in lowering my chin slightly. 

“What was that?” he taunted. “ _I can’t hear you_.” 

His fingers relaxed their grip then and air flooded my lungs, though his hand didn’t move away. I opened my eyes to find his mere inches away, staring into me. I knew what I wanted. What I needed. 

“I’m yours,” I whispered. 

He shook his head, making tutting sounds, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. …. _Louder._ ” 

“I’m _yours_.” My voice has never sounded so sure. 

He thrust into me, his fingers squeezing around my throat again. His mouth crushed mine, desperate with hunger as he pounded relentlessly. Desire coiled in my cunt as he filled me, sliding in and out and destroying everything else in existence until there was nothing left but him inside me. 

His lips pulled away from mine and lowered to my ear to whisper, “ _Cum for Daddy._ ” 

The reaction was instantaneous. I exploded, gushing around his cock and he chuckled darkly. 

“Good girl.” He moaned against my ear. And when he didn’t slow I found myself cumming again and again in succession, a never-ending orgasm that filled every fiber of my being. “Good girl, good girl, good girl.” 

Never in my life have I felt like I did in that moment. The number of boys I fucked in high school and college (busy as I’d been, I still occasionally found time for fucking, ever caught in my search for love) qualified me as “experienced.” But they never made me stream like this. Hell, I can’t even make me stream like this. _Can those even_ _be called orgasms anymore?_

Nothing will compare to submission. Giving up control is a drug. Giving _him_ control is my drug. I know already that I am an addict. I’ll give anything for a fix; for his hand around my throat. I’ll do anything to feel him pumping inside me. I never want this to end. 

I’d always thought I didn’t enjoy sex. My exes certainly never brought me pleasure. In fact, I would get off harder listening to my dormmate get fucked by the string of guys she was constantly bringing home. Talk about awkward and confusing. When my experiences with sex didn’t bring me gratification, I mostly gave up on boys and focused on my studies. 

But this … This is bliss like I never thought possible. He buried himself in me, demanding and taking and stealing my essence. But everything he took he returned tenfold … a hundredfold. He filled my body with exquisite delight and owned every thought in my head. My cunt bore down, gripping his cock tightly. 

I felt him shudder but not slow and he growled, “You’re gonna make me cum, Pumpkin.” 

Don’t ask me where it came from, but I begged, “Fill me up, Daddy.” 

The sounds that he made were absolute _heaven_. Joyous and excruciating. He threw his head backward, his hand tightening around my throat as he came hard and I felt myself climaxing in time with him. He slowed and then stilled, his cock still pulsing inside me. 

When he pulled out, the corners of my vision started to dim. His hand was still cutting off my oxygen. My brain started to panic and my hands pushed at his chest. But he was far stronger and I couldn’t move him. I clawed at his hand and he smiled wide. 

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.” He tutted. “Not yet.” 

Tears flooded my eyes as fear overrode my system. His eyes gleamed as he pushed down on my throat, pinning me to the couch. The shadows at the edges of my vision grew and I started to feel weak. 

That’s when he bent over me again to lick from my jawbone to my temple before placing his lips by my ear and commanding, “ _Cum_.” 

My pussy flooded as it obeyed, the strongest orgasm I have ever felt ripping through me. I screamed but only heard a strangled gurgle. 

“Oh, _gooood_ _girrrl_.” He trilled, releasing my neck completely and peppering my mouth with little kisses. As air slammed into my lungs, my cunt shuddered again, forcing continued release. I sucked in oxygen and cried out at the same time. The hand that had been on my throat covered my mouth but left my nostrils exposed so I could continue to gasp for air. 

“Now, now.” He chuckled. “We don’t want the guards to hear.” 

When my breathing normalized he removed his hand and sat back. As I sat up there sounded three successive knocks. My eyes snapped to the door as fear once again overtook. _Oh god, they heard me._

“Lunch, Dr. Quinzel!” Came a female voice and I felt my body relax. 

“Just a minute!” I jumped from the couch, pulling my skirt down and trying to smooth away the wrinkles. When I turned to make sure J was righting himself, I discovered him twirling my thong around one finger. 

I reached out a hand for it and he snickered. “Oh, no.” He said. And then he was in front of me, shoving his hand up my skirt and the fabric between my juicy lips. “This is _mine_.” 

I was so surprised by what he had done that I stood frozen, staring at him. He pulled the panties out and took a long whiff before tucking the scrap of lace into the waistband of his pants, all the while smirking at me. Challenging me to disagree. But how could I? I’d give him anything he asked of me. 

I walked to my desk and picked up the loathsome straightjacket. It wasn’t right to confine him. _He deserves to be free_. 

With a sigh I unlocked the door and pulled it open, holding out the straightjacket to the first guard that entered. She took it and stepped to J, holding it open in front of him. He complied without being asked, sliding his arms into the sleeves, and bending the elbows as required. The whole time he stared at me, watching me, _knowing_ that I could still feel him inside me. 

“See ya later, Doc.” He grinned as they led him from the room 

And he will. This afternoon. _Alone_ _in my office._


	15. Chapter 15

_SHE CANNOT DO THIS. I WILL KILL HER._ _I_ _WILL FUCKING BURN HER HOUSE TO THE GROUND WITH HER IN IT._ _SMASH IN HER FACE. RIP OFF HER LIMBS._ _POUR DRANO DOWN HER THROAT. I WILL FUCKING KILL HER._ _SHE CAN’T DO THIS!_

No, wait, let me go back. 

I left my office in a daze, feeling slightly wobbly kneed and absolutely ravenous. My mind was full of J, relishing in reliving all that had just occurred. And because of that, I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t see the commotion just a short distance ahead and I heard the yelled warnings two seconds too late. 

I recognized Lon, my former level 8 patient, running full speed at me. My hands threw before my face on instinct and I was thrown into the wall. He slammed his forearm onto the back of my shoulders, pushing me tight against the painted cement before grabbing my hair and smashing the side of my skull repeatedly while he howled, “I AIN’T GOIN’ BACK!” 

The scream that tore from my throat echoed down the halls. 

And then my head was yanked backward, the pressure on my back disappearing as the guards pulled Lon off of me. I dropped to the ground, tears streaming, trying and failing to hold back the wail burning in my chest. I gently touched the side of my head and found blood when I pulled my hand away. 

Everything happened so fast after that. Doctors and more guards came running. Lon shrieked incessantly when the guards lifted him off the ground and carted him away. Ned and Mae, another psychiatrist, brought me back to my office, while Josie called 911, and another nurse scurried to notify Alera. 

The EMTs got to my office before my boss did. They told me I was lucky my skull hadn’t caved in and worried over the possibility of fractures. The torn skin on my scalp wasn’t too bad either. Head wounds just bleed a lot, so I looked far worse than the size of the wound warranted. They checked for a concussion and luckily didn’t find one. 

I couldn’t convince them not to take me to the hospital, and so I took my first ambulance ride. The doctors took x-rays and quadruple checked for a concussion. They fussed and fettered and all around pissed me off. It took some convincing, but I was released around 4 PM. I took a cab back to Arkham. 

The security guard outside must have called Alera when I passed him, because she was waiting for me the second I got inside. 

“What are you doing here?” 

I just sighed, “What, Alera?” 

“You should be at home.” 

I rolled my eyes and moved past her. “I have a job to do.” 

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Harleen. You were attacked.” 

“And checked out. I’m fine.” 

Her black-brown eyes burned with rage and she pointed at my office in Minimum. There would be no appeasing her, so I just stalked into my office and closed the door once she entered. 

“I knew it was a bad idea. And you talked me into it. I thought I could trust you. But you had his straightjacket _removed_?” 

My heart dropped into my stomach. _She knows … shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!_

_Oh my god, I fucked a patient._

_No, I fucked a god. And I’d do it again._

“How could you be so thoughtless?” she demanded. I tried to swallow but found my mouth too dry. She pointed at me, “You were attacked by your patient.” 

My brows furrowed in confusion. “I didn’t take Lon’s-“ 

“Not Lon.” Her tone implied she thought I was stupid. “The Joker.” 

“What?” _He didn’t hurt me_. 

She gestured to the mirror hanging over my desk. “I have eyes, Harleen! You think just because you don’t tell me what happens in a session, I can’t see it for myself?!” 

I went and looked in the mirror. _Shit_. Five distinct bruises, marking where his fingers had been on my throat. I sat heavily in the chair before my desk and swiveled to face her, eyes wide. _I have to fix this._

“It must have been Lon.” 

“I have statements from two guards. Lon never touched your neck. The only other patient you’ve seen is the Joker. … But, please, try lying to me again.” She was livid. “He is far too violent.” 

“Alera, it wasn’t that bad. I had full control –“ 

“Control? _Control?!_ You think _anyone_ can control this psychotic?!” I have never seen her so angry. Not even when I stood up to her in the electroshock room. 

“Dr. Standness.” 

“You are off this case.” 

I forgot how to breathe. Somehow I choked out, “You can’t do that.” 

“Like hell, I can’t.” her arms crossed over her chest. “If it were up to me, he’d be in the highest security prison there is; a guinea pig for whatever scientist wanted to experiment on him.” 

My hands curled into fists. I wanted to hit her. 

“But the board says he has to stay here, so I’m stuck with him. You, however, are going to take the rest of the week off to recover. Three attacks in one day, Dr. Quinzel. What the hell is in the water around here?” 

“Three?” 

“I wasn’t sure if one of the other doctors contacted you. I guess not.” 

“About what?” 

She walked to the door and opened it. “Come with me.” 

I followed her through Minimum, the security block between wings, and through the halls of Max. 

“You don’t think it’s that bad? You think you have control?” she shook her head angrily. “The guards were still bringing him back to his cell when Lon attacked you. They heard your screams. And when more guards ran out from the nearby security office, where they had just seen the attack on the monitors, they stupidly told their coworkers that it was you and Lon. They told _him_ that.” 

_Oh, fuck_. 

“The ones transporting him wanted to go and help. So they weren’t focused when making the transition into his cell. He lifted a set of keys. And then they had to go and carry Lon by the Joker’s cell down to solitary. He watched where they put him. He waited for the guards to leave and he let himself out.” 

She had taken me a different way to solitary, so we hadn’t passed by the cells. She stopped in front of one of the doors before opening it with a flourish. “Then he did _this_.” 

Every wall was splattered with blood. Even the ceiling had curved lines of cast-off. The floor couldn’t be seen under the sea of red. The body lying in the middle of the room had tiny cuts everywhere, the face so bashed in that I wouldn’t have recognized him if I didn’t know already that it was Lon. 

“He used the keys as brass knuckles. We’re still waiting on the coroner.” 

Surrounded by violence, I felt loved. “He was protecting me.” 

“Are you an idiot, Harleen?” 

_“The fuck kinda name is Harleen anyways_?” echoed in my head. I scowled at her. 

Dr. Standness continued, “This is one of the clearest cases of transference I have ever seen. He is inappropriately attached to you. The relationship between patient and psychiatrist must stay within certain lines and when those lines are blurred in any way it becomes a detriment, you know this. His obsession is out of bounds.” 

“I’m the only one who understands him. I’m the only one he’ll open up to. You can’t take me off this case, Alera, he needs me.” 

She snorted, “What he needs is a lobotomy.” 

I snapped viciously. “What he needs is a doctor’s care. Someone who actually gives a shit about his wellbeing and will help him.” 

“That will not be you.” 

“Who else, Alera?!” 

“This man just attacked one of my psychiatrists. Then he killed one of my patients before locking himself back in his cell like nothing had happened. I am _trying_ to protect you from him.” 

_I don’t need_ _your_ _protection._

“You take me off this case and leave him locked in his cell untreated, so help me I will contact every single member of the board and tell them exactly how you are treating the highest-profile case to ever come through Arkham.” 

She scowled at me. “Fine.” 

_Yes!_

“I will be taking over his care.” 

**_NO!_ **

“Alera –“ 

“Go home, Dr. Quinzel.” 

“You can’t do this.” 

“When you come back next week, you’ll have your old caseload.” 

“Alera, please.” 

“Go. Home.” 

I whirled away from her, finding a trail of bloody footprints leading down the hall. I followed, led quickly to the cells. J was kneeling at the front of his, watching our conversation, blood still splattered over his face and coating his hands. My legs carried me to him, dropping before the front of his cell. Our eyes locked and I fought the catch in my voice. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, you know I’d do anything for you, my little harlequin.” 

And then Alera was grabbing my arm, yanking me to my feet. She stomped away from the cells, dragging me with her. I couldn’t stop my hand from reaching back for him. I couldn’t stop my heart from breaking. _I’ll never see him again._

“I told you to go home.” She raged. She didn’t take her hand off my arm until we were standing outside. One final glare from her and she spat, “Do not try me, Harleen. Don’t come back before next week.” 

I swing from fury to sorrow and back. I fear I am losing my mind. Anguish hits me like a truck that just won’t stop coming. 

I will kill her for this. She can’t take him away from me. I need him. 

_How am I supposed to survive without him_ _?_


	16. Chapter 16

My apartment looks like a crime scene. I alternated between sobbing forlornly and breaking things in rage all day Tuesday. Shattered dishes cover every surface of my kitchen. Mugs, plates, bowls, I trashed everything. Every mirror was smashed with the golf club I’d saved from a pile of curbside trash and brought home for protection. I threw books at the walls, putting in more than a few dents and holes. Any piece of furniture that could be thrown or knocked over was. And then I took the club to my fridge. 

I didn’t know what to do with myself. So I sat in the mess and turned on the TV – the one thing that had been spared from my vehemence. I couldn’t tell you what I watched, it was more for noise than entertainment. My mind would not stray from the Joker. He had brought me to the heights of euphoria. And Alera dragged me to the depths of desolation. 

_I hope he kills her._

Yesterday, when I wasn’t keening desolately in my bed, I used the golf club to smash all the broken dishes into a million tiny shards. 

10:30 this morning my cell phone rang. It was Alera’s private work number. At first, I was so filled with furor that I nearly threw my phone. But then the thought that he could be hurt seized my heart and I answered. “What.” 

Silence loomed. I began conjuring images of my Joker wounded. Just when I opened my mouth to demand she answer me, she sighed and a very tired, defeated voice came through the phone. “He won’t work with me.” 

Relief swept through me. And then I smiled. _That’s my J._

“The only thing he’ll say to me is that he doesn’t like me and he only wants you.” My heart exploded in my chest. I could swear I died in that moment. “Otherwise he’s very … hostile.” 

I forced a clinical tone. “How so?” 

“He stares. Malevolently. He doesn’t speak, but I’m terrified the whole time. It’s like …” her voice shuddered. “It’s like I can see him tearing me apart in his head.” 

My smile only widened. I let a pause linger. “And?” 

“I need you to come in.” 

_Play it cool, Harley._

“It’s only Thursday. You ordered me to recover until Monday.” 

“Please, Dr. Quinzel.” She fought to sound authoritative, but I could detect pleading in her tone. “Your patient needs care.” 

“ _Where was that concern_ _three_ _days ago_?” I spat into the phone, unable to mask my ferocity. 

“I didn’t know.” She sighed again. “I read his file. I talked with his previous psychiatrists. I thought I knew what he was. … I was wrong.” 

I didn’t speak. 

“What do you want, Harleen? Do you want an apology? I’m sorry. I was wrong, you were right. If he actually talks to you, if he’s actually making progress with you, then clearly he needs you as his psychiatrist. Now, will you _please_ take back your patient?” 

“I’ll be in for his afternoon session.” I hung up the phone and danced around the shambles of my apartment. 

Then I showered and shaved and dressed carefully. I decided not to bother trying to open the severely dented fridge and went to the closest convenience store to grab some lunch. Inside I found a rotating standee of adorable little stuffed animals. On the top shelf was a mostly white cat that caught my eye as soon as I entered the shop. 

_I’m gonna make this little kitty_ ** _purr_** _._

A grin swept over my lips and I bought the cat along with my meal. I ate while I walked to the subway station, my skin positively buzzing. Everything was right with the world. 

I half expected Alera to be waiting for me when I got to the asylum, but she was nowhere to be seen. No matter. She would have only ruined my mood. I fixed myself a cup of coffee in the breakroom before making my way to my office. 

The note she left on my desk informing me that Joker’s office privileges had been revoked barely dimmed my happiness. I was going to see him again. Yes, he would be restrained, but I would _see him_. 

My heels clicked through the halls to Security 1. The guards nodded at me as I passed them into the room. 

“There she is.” He grinned at me as I approached. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. 

I placed my usual legal pad and pen on the table along with my coffee cup before sitting down across from him. 

“Dr. Quinzel.” He drawled out my name and sent my stomach tying into knots. “You know I live for these moments with you.” 

“I know what you mean.” I murmured. Being separated was like being dead. I hadn’t really known what living was until that first session with him. “I missed you.” 

“Me too, baby. You and that delicious pussy.” 

That’s when I remembered his gift and I reached into my pocket. 

“What do you got?” _God, his voice_ ** _does_** _things to me._

“I got you a kitty.” I grinned, holding it out for him to see. 

“So thoughtful.” 

I glowed under his praise as I set the toy down in the middle of the table. “I heard you were … _difficult_ for Dr. Standness.” 

“That cunt deserves what’s coming to her.” 

A wide smile plastered my lips. “What do you have planned?” 

“Uh, uh.” He snapped his teeth at me. “I don’t wanna spoil the surprise.” 

I giggled. It seemed to please him. 

He leaned forward, staring into me, dropping his tone seductively, “Come on, baby. Gimme a taste of that sweet pie.” 

I glanced over my shoulder at the security camera and he forced my attention back to him, “Ah, ah, ah. Don’t worry about that.” He waited for me to be looking him in the eye and then he said, “Do it for Daddy.” 

Arousal sparked a flood in my crotch and I gasped. He smirked, knowing I would obey. I’d do anything he asked. I leaned back in my chair and kept my eyes locked on his as I slid my hand under the waistband of my skirt – the same one he’d fucked me in – to slip a finger between my folds. Once thoroughly coated, I carefully withdrew my hand and wiped my finger around my mouth like it held lip gloss. Then I moved forward, leaning onto the table in the same way I had the first time we’d kissed. 

“Oh, you’re a _baaad girl_ , aren’t you?” 

“Only for you.” 

His tongue swiped across my lips before he claimed my mouth in a rough kiss. “Just as mouthwatering as I remember.” He moaned against my lips. 

By the time I sat down again, my pussy was absolutely aching. I yearned for him to fill me, but there was no way I was going that far in an unlocked, monitored room. The risk that a security officer might be looking at our feed right then was part of what turned me on so much during the kiss. But I’d be arrested for sure if I was caught having sex with a patient. It’s technically rape because of my position of power as his doctor. Though the thought of me having any kind of power over him was laughable. I snickered. 

“What’s funny?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Come now. We both know how much I love a joke.” 

One side of my mouth curved up in a smirk. “Just the thought of me having power over you.” 

“Oh, but you do have power over me.” His voice was enticing. “Don’t you remember my little present in solitary?” 

The carnage flashed into my mind. I had never seen so much blood. “You killed for me.” 

“Nobody touches my Harley girl.” Danger and fury and possessiveness filled his tone. My heart floated from joy. 

“Thank you, again. I’ve never been so scared.” The next was attempted to be muttered under my breath, but I’m positive he heard me. “I feel like I owe you something.” 

I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear as he leaned forward in his chair, staring into me, “There is something you can do for me, doctor.” 

“Anything. I mean, yeah.” 

His eyes never strayed from mine. “I need a machine gun.” 

“A machine gun?” I think I nodded because next he was chuckling, a wide smile crinkling his eyes. 

“I think it’s time I got out of here.” 

_He deserves to be free._

“Of course.” _Where the hell do I get a machine gun?_ “I don’t … I mean I’ve never bought a gun.” 

“It’ll be delivered.” 

“What?” 

“At your apartment. You just need to bring it in tomorrow and get it to me. … And leave one of the security doors unlocked so I can escape.” 

“I don’t have keys to the outer security doors.” 

He started to gag then, making odd coughing sounds. Before I could react to my concern for him, he spat a brass colored key onto the table. “Fools never counted the keyring I used to kill Lonnie.” 

I snatched it quickly and put it in my pocket. I didn’t want it turning up on the security tapes. “You’re sure this is the right one?” 

He gave me a look. 

“Why didn’t you just leave after you killed Lon?” 

“I’d never make it past all those guards. That’s why I need you to bring me the gun.” _He needs me._ “And I wanted to see you again.” _He_ ** _wants_** _me._

“I’ll help you.” I smiled. Then joked, “After all, I am your doctor.”


	17. Chapter 17

The past 24 hours have been insanity. Things I never could have predicted happening … violence like I never expected. 

It started when I got home Thursday evening to find my apartment was immaculate. Every piece of furniture was in place, all my books organized as they had been. The mess was gone, the walls restored as if they had never been marred by vehemence, the fridge miraculously in perfect order. I started to question my sanity, wondering what the hell was going on. 

That’s when I noticed the briefcase lying on my coffee table, confirming that someone else had been in my apartment. On top of it sat a crystal single-stem vase holding a fully bloomed red rose, a note tied with a ribbon attached. I picked up the vase, inhaling deeply of the rose’s scent before flipping the note over to read 

“ _Pumpkin,_

_See you soon._

_J”_

When I opened the briefcase I found pieces of a machine gun waiting to be put together before use encased in customized foam. Joker’s men must have broken in, cleaned up, and left the gun for his escape. But why did they bother fixing up my apartment? 

I barely slept last night. I was too excited. Nerves filled my stomach this morning as I got ready to go to work. The briefcase was light, but it weighed so heavily on me. I felt like everyone on the subway was staring. My heart thundered in my chest as I walked into Arkham and had to pass dozens of guards. I was certain they were going to ask me why my hand was shaking when I swiped through the security station between wings. But no one said a word. 

I started in the direction of my office, but veered down one of the halls and to the door J had specified I unlock for him. I don’t know why I tested it first, it was definitely locked. I took the key from my pocket and unlocked the door, then tested it again, letting it open less than an inch before I pulled it closed again. Then I turned and went straight to my office and locked myself inside. 

_What am I doing?_

_He_ ** _deserves_** _to be_ ** _free_** _._

I lay down on the couch, struggling to calm my nerves. One last step. I just had to get him the gun, and then my part was over. Unbidden, memories played in my mind. I relived our one office session and by the time I was recalling him getting back into the straightjacket, I wasn’t so worried about what I was doing. 

I walked to Security 1 with a smile and even nodded to the guards before I passed. The door closed behind me and I brought the briefcase to the table. He grinned at me. 

“Get me out of this thing.” He stood from the chair he was shackled to and I quickly moved next to him to undo the belts and buckles of the straightjacket. When he was free, he tossed the cursed thing aside and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t have a key to the chains.” 

“I’ll have that sorted soon enough.” He cricked his neck and pulled a cell phone from his sweatpants. 

“Where did you get a phone?” 

He just laughed and typed on the cell. Then he tossed it over his shoulder into the corner of the room before pulling the briefcase toward him and opening it. One by one, he pulled out the pieces and assembled the machine gun in quick succession. “Call them in here.” 

“What?” 

“The guards. Call the guards in here.” 

I stared at him for a moment and he clicked the last piece into place. Then he whipped the table sideways, the briefcase clattering to the ground as he snarled, “ _Now_ , Harley.” 

I jumped at his anger and shrieked, “GUARDS!” 

The door opened as gunfire rang out somewhere in the building. They ran into Security 1 and J opened fire, mowing them down while laughing. I threw myself backward, away from the carnage, and pressed myself against the wall. Screams drifted through the open door, never-ending gunshots echoing the halls. Terror invaded my heart. 

“What’s happening?!” 

“Get the keys.” He ordered. I moved to the closest guard, taking his keyring from his belt and going to unlock the shackles that bound the Joker. When I stood, looking up at him with trepidation, he grabbed my chin in his hand, fingers curling up my cheeks, and smiled maliciously, “Now, _run_.” 

And he shoved me away from him, gripping the gun with both hands. I stumbled but somehow managed to catch myself before falling. When J turned the muzzle of the gun to point at me, I ran from the room. Shots rang out behind me; shots rang out ahead of me. 

_I’m going to die._

I sprinted down the hall, darting around a corner to see men in costumes mowing down employees and patients alike. I couldn’t slow, couldn’t spare a second. I darted through that hall, skidding left and right in hopes of preventing getting shot. Somehow, I made it to my office and slammed the door closed, flicking the lock before dragging my desk in front of it. 

I rushed to open one of the windows but found it sealed shut. Same with the second. The sounds of automatic gunfire and screaming wouldn’t end and I found myself scrunched into the smallest ball I could in a corner of the room, my hands pressed over my ears. 

He was just supposed to leave. He’d told me to unlock the door so he could get out, but instead, I let these people in. _Everyone is going to die, and it’s going to be my fault._

I don’t know how long I hid before gunshots exploded through my door. I shrieked in horror as bullets tore through the knob, embedding into the desk. Someone pushed on the door, but it only opened a couple of inches before hitting the desk. Then the door shook on its hinges as repeated slams forced the desk away a little at a time. Once open wide enough, a familiar face stepped inside. 

My mouth dropped open. “Jon?” 

The bearded man eyed me with a smirk, “Actually, it’s Jonny.” 

My blood ran cold. “ _Frost?!_ ” 

He chuckled. “J said he’d told you about me.” 

I flashed back to that evening in the club, “You knew who I was. That’s why you helped me.” 

“I know everything about you, Dr. Quinzel.” This time his chuckle held an undercurrent of malice and mocking. “How’s _Joey_?” 

Then he shoved the desk completely away from the door, allowing more men to enter. One arm swept toward me and he looked to the masked men. “You know the boss’s orders.” 

I screamed when they enclosed, fighting when they grabbed me and lifted me to my feet. “No!” 

I didn’t stop fighting the entire time they dragged me along with them. _Where are they taking me?_ _!_

Once I realized where we were going, I started to fight even harder; dragging my feet and yanking on my arms wildly. But I couldn’t break free. “No, please. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” They pushed me into the shock therapy room. Once inside, Jonny took me from them, gripping my upper arms and pulling me to the table. 

“NO!” I shrieked, kicking out at him. I grunted when he shoved me down onto it then yelped, “Get off me!” 

“Shh.” Jonny hissed as he pulled on my arms, someone else gripping my legs and yanking them straight. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” From the control room, I heard screams and the unmistakable dull _thwacks_ of a blunt instrument hitting flesh. (I didn't know it at the time but it was the sound of Andy being beaten to death.) I fought against the men holding me, but they looped the straps and buckled them tight with ease before moving away from the table. Something wooden clattered to the concrete floor. 

From the other side of the room came J’s voice. “What do we have here?” 

He approached shirtless, shoving a light down in my face once he’d gotten to the head of the table, and leaned down to look into me with those crystal blue eyes. 

“I did everything you said. I helped you.” 

“Ah.” He smiled, but it so quickly turned to rage. “You helped me? After Jo-han stripped me so bare I couldn’t even tell you my name? _You_ helped _me_ … by erasing _my mind_ , what few _faded memories I had._ ” His fists slammed the table on either side of my head while he spoke and my eyes squeezed shut against his fury. 

He ran his fingers through his hair as he said, “No. … No, Alera barked and you left me in a black hole of rage and confusion.” 

“That isn’t what happened! My hand was forced at first but I fought for you. You know I fought for you!” 

“Is that the medicine you practice, Dr. Quinzel?” He tugged on the middle finger of the purple glove on his right hand, stretching the latex before releasing it and clasping his fingers together to settle the material around his digits again. 

“What are you gonna do, you gonna kill me, Mistah J?” Fear removed all pretention from my tone. 

“What?” He turned his head, tapping his ear as if he hadn’t heard me. But I knew he did. He stood up straight, staring down at me before picking up the wands. “Oh, I’m not gonna kill ya.” 

The wands danced in circles as he spoke. “I’m just gonna hurt ya … really, really bad.” 

“You think so?” I stared at him with devotion. _Pain is pleasure. Pleasure is pain._ “Well, I can take it.” 

He smirked at me and put the wands down, picking up the leather strap that had been in his mouth last week. He folded it in half and snapped the leather above me. I opened my mouth and he pushed the strap into it. “I wouldn’t want you to break those perfect porcelain-capped teeth when the _juice_ hits your brain.” He pressed his middle fingers to his temples, then he picked up the wands again. 

They had barely touched my temples when he pressed the buttons and electricity coursed through me. My eyes snapped closed, every muscle pulling taught under the barrage of current. If it weren’t for the straps holding me down I probably would have lifted clear off the table from the way my body arched. I tried to count how long he held the buttons, but my brain refused to obey commands. 

The relief that swept through me when the voltage stopped bordered on euphoric. Two deep breaths flooded my lungs and he pressed the buttons again. Pain ravaged me. The length of this one seemed double that of the first. 

When he released the buttons again, the relief that engulfed my body forced a soft moan. He chuckled and I opened my eyes to look up at him. The smirk was still on his face, mirth dancing in his eyes as he watched me. He nodded once and I heard the clicking of the dial indicating the intensity was being changed. My eyes never left his as the electricity hit me again, stronger this time. A low tone came from my vocal cords. 

“That’s it, baby.” J coaxed. “Give in to it.” 

The groan slowly grew louder. Everything he’d said to me echoed in my head, riding along the waves of current until the very marrow of my bones bore his words. My moan hit its peak and the pain vanished. He’d released the buttons. The alleviation of my torment rippled through me in waves and my moan turned orgasmic. 

He laughed and nodded once more. The clicking of the dial sounded again. My body stiffened in pain, then relaxed. My voice never quieted. Another nod, more clicking. More pain, more pleasure from abatement. I lost count of how many rounds he gave me. Arcs cracked over my psyche, weakening the structure of Harleen with each shock. I could feel myself changing; separating. 

A giggle tripped from my throat and he put the wands down. I locked my eyes on his and tried to talk around the leather strap. When he pulled it from my mouth I took a few deep breaths, and a coquettish begging spilled from my lips, “ _More_.” 

He leaned down again, a few locks of hair flipping forward. He pointed at his temples, twisting his hands back and forth, “You want more, baby?” 

“ _Yes_.” 

“Beg me.” 

My body shuddered. “Please. Oh, _pretty, pretty please_ , Mistah J. I want you to hurt me.” 

He laughed again as he picked up the wands, putting them against my temples and clicking the buttons simultaneously. My teeth slammed together as the current filled my body. The pain screamed through me, shocking me down to my atoms. I violent scream tore from my throat as he held the buttons down far longer than he ever had before. 

But when he let them go… 

Sweet relief coiled and washed and swept out everything, waving in pleasure in its wake. My pussy gushed as climax overtook me. The wave carried me forever, ripples of bliss cascading through me. When it finally ceased I caught his eyes again and cooed, “ _Pain is pleasure._ ” 

Hands were pulling at the buckles then, undoing the straps as J put the wands down and kissed my lips. Then he came around to the side of the table and took my hand, helping me up and onto my feet. The way that he looked at me was intoxicating. 

Jonny handed him a purple alligator skin trench coat, which J slipped into like welcoming an old friend. He took a cane from Jonny and twirled it once. When I finally looked away from J, I found Jonny holding a gun pointed at my face. 

J turned around and saw him. He wagged his finger at his right-hand man, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Can’t you see that plans have _changed_ , Jonny?” He took me in his grasp and pulled me close, pressing his lips to mine again. 

Screams echoed down the hall outside, growing louder as the woman drew closer. Then more masked men pushed Alera through the doors of the electroshock room, her terror palpable. J’s men shoved her onto the table roughly. 

“Harleen!” she begged as tears streamed down her face, “ _Help me!_ ” 

The men pulled her limbs straight, tying her down with the leather straps. I noticed the man next to me had a 10-inch hunting knife sheathed on his belt and grinned wickedly. When Joker’s henchmen stepped away from the table, I snatched the knife and rushed forward, raising it high so she knew it was coming before burying its full length in her stomach. Her screams reached a pitch before unheard as blood pooled around the knife and spilled across her torso. Then I leaned close, staring her in the eyes, “I quit, Alera. … I’m goin’ to join the circus. And the name is _Harley_.” 

One of his men took the wands, pressing them to her skull. Another pulled out a roll of duct tape and began winding it around her head, tightly enough that the buttons remained pressed down. I watched her closely as the tape continued to circle around her skull, electricity arcing from the knife in her torso. Then J took my hand and drew me close to him again. 

“Once you’re done, leave her here. Torch the place and go home.” He told his men. Then he led me from the room, laughing maniacally. And I couldn’t help myself from laughing along with him. 

“If you knew what was good for ya, you’d stay away from me.” He said as he brought me outside, never letting go of my hand. 

Jonny opened the rear door of a black Hummer waiting just outside the security door. J climbed in, holding my hand aloft to assist me in joining him. As I stepped up into the huge vehicle, I answered, “I don’t want ‘good.’ … I want _you._ ” 

The door closed behind me and Jonny was in the driver’s seat in seconds, pulling away from the building. Gangster rap played from the speakers, the beat pulsing like gunshots. The vibration of the tires on the road made my body thrum, phantom electricity still coursing through my veins. J’s hand tightened on mine, his eyes never straying from me. I pressed my thighs together when the Hummer bounced over a pothole, feeling the jolt squarely between my legs. My lips curled between my teeth and I bit down, trying to fight the growing need that burned within. 

J leaned toward me, placing his mouth an inch away from my ear. In a throaty growl, he commanded, “ _Cum_.” 

My cunt released, bearing down and gushing my orgasm. I shuddered as pleasure swept through me. With a satisfied smirk, he sat back, watching me closely. Then he reached into his pants and pulled out his very stiff, glorious cock. 

“Now come over here and fuck me.” 

I was desperate to be filled, so I moved to obey him immediately, pulling up my skirt and climbing onto his lap. It didn’t matter that Jonny was barely a few feet away, completely aware of everything that happened in the backseat as he drove. I _needed_ to feel him inside me. 

He slid my panties to the side and pressed his tip at my opening. I slammed my hips down, taking his full length deep inside. A moan tumbled from my lips and he let out a breathy laugh, his hand at the back of my skull curling around a fistful of my hair. He pulled his other hand out from between us and it wrapped around my lower back, holding my body close against his. I started to move then, sliding up and down his shaft, my juices coating him. As I bounced, I felt an orgasm building and my breath came out in blissful gasps. 

He yanked my head to the side and bit my neck, sucking hard on my flesh. I cried out as my cunt spasmed, the burst of pain cresting the pleasure and bringing me to climax. My body shuddered as the wave rolled through me, carrying me along. His fingers uncurled from my hair and his hands moved to my hips, gripping into my skin painfully. Metal teeth never released the side of my neck as his hands lifted my hips and pushed them down, making me thrust harder and faster than I had previously. I couldn’t stop my euphoric moaning and the car filled with my sounds. 

J lifted me up, holding me so that only the head of him remained inside. My cunt gripped him tightly, as if trying to pull him deeper. But he just held me there, waiting. I began to ache, my pussy desperate to be filled again. I wriggled my hips, trying to lower them and he chuckled against my neck, licking the skin before releasing his teeth. “Tell me what you want.” 

“More,” I answered. But he didn’t move. I shifted uncomfortably, the ache inside me burning relentlessly. “ _Please,_ ” I begged, lifting my head to look him in the eye. “Fuck me.” 

His hips pistoned up, burying his cock to the hilt. My head rolled back in ecstasy as he began to pound with fury. My juices squelched with each thrust. I cried out again as I came, my hands holding onto his shoulders to keep from falling. 

“Good girl.” He growled, his fingers gripping the flesh of my hips so tightly that I exclaimed in pain, “That’s it, right like that.” 

“It hurts,” I whimpered. 

“Goooood,” he purred, jackhammering his cock into me again and again before echoing his words from the shock therapy room, “Give in to it.” 

My fingers curled onto his shoulders, digging into him and he shuddered deliciously, a grunt of pleasure breaking from his throat. Knowing that he enjoyed the pain, I slid my hands beneath his jacket and dug harder, my nails pressing into his skin. He slammed me down onto his lap, burying himself so deeply that I felt him pushing at my cervix. And then his head rolled back as his cock began to pulse, spraying his cum deep inside. My pussy clenched, milking him for all he had and he groaned loudly. 

When he lifted his head to look at me, I kissed his lips softly. I think it took him by surprise. That’s when I noticed that the Hummer had stopped and Jonny was gone. I slipped off of him, pulling on my skirt awkwardly as he fixed his pants. He knocked on the window and the door swung open, Jonny standing outside with his hand on the handle. 

J climbed out first and I followed. We were in a massive white-walled garage, filled with gorgeous cars of all makes and models. I stared agog, knowing that millions of dollars surrounded me. He took my hand again, leading me to follow Jonny, who walked straight to a set of metal sliding doors, pressing a button on the wall. The doors opened and we stepped into an elevator that started ascending the second the doors closed. 

“Where are we?” I asked Joker. 

“Home.” He said simply. 

The ride was much shorter than it should have been, considering how many floors we traveled to the penthouse. The doors opened to reveal the most lavish living space I’d ever seen. I was instantly reminded of magazine pictures of the homes of royalty. We crossed the threshold and the two men began discussing business. I left them to explore the reaches of the penthouse. 

After wandering through all the rooms, consistently amazed by the swanky décor, I found myself in an opulent office, where I sat down to write this entry. I don’t want to forget a second of what has happened. 

My life is just about to start.


	18. Chapter 18

In all honesty, I had to finish that last entry just now. J came into the office while I was writing. At first, he seemed angry, but when he approached and read the last line I had written – “ _My pussy clenched, milking him for all he had and he groaned loudly._ _”_ – he chuckled. “What are you doing, little girl?” 

“I didn’t have my journal,” I said softly, worried that he was upset I had taken his pen and paper. 

He placed his hands on my shoulders, dipping them down below my shirt to cup my breasts and squeezing, “I’ll have Jonny get it for you.” 

I leaned back in the chair, granting him easier access and looking up at him adoringly. Then he withdrew his hands and tucked them under my armpits, lifting me to my feet. He moved around the chair and took my hand in his, leading me from the room. 

“Where are we going?” I asked. 

“I gotta take a real shower. Get the stink of the asylum off me.” 

“… Ok?” 

He brought me through the master bedroom, where I tried not to stare at the massive bed, and into a gorgeous bathroom. There was a huge Jacuzzi tub with dozens of nozzles, a golden toilet and bidet, a triple sink laid in marble, and a massive stand-alone shower that had multiple sprayers from all different angles. All the faucets were gold. The marble had gold streaks inlaid; even the tilework had a gold and black pattern. 

“You really like gold…” 

“Gold is for kings.” He turned on the shower, a powerful spray shooting from all the different showerheads. Then he undressed and climbed inside, water cascading down his pale skin. I stood entranced, staring. “Haaaarleyyyy.” 

I lifted my eyes to his, unashamed of the way I had gawked at him. He smirked at me, running his hands through his green hair. “Strip.” He ordered. 

I took off my white coat, letting it drop to the floor, and started unbuttoning my red silk blouse. His eyes never strayed from my form as I moved. I pulled the bottom of the blouse out from the waistband of my skirt and finished undoing the buttons before letting the silk slide from my skin. I unzipped the skirt and it fell to a pile around my feet. Then I turned around, showing him my back as I reached up to unclasp the strap of my bra. It dropped to the ground and I pulled my hair from the ponytail at the base of my skull, letting it spill free about my shoulders. I slid down my underwear, wiggling my hips until it fell atop the skirt. My feet stepped out from my heels and I took off my glasses, folding the arms and placing them on the marble countertop. I turned around again, and he saw me naked for the first time. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured, curling a finger in a “come hither” gesture. 

I crossed the marble tile floor, stepping into the shower but staying out of the spray. He grabbed my forearm and pulled me to him, pressing my body against his. Water sluiced over the both of us, drenching every inch. I giggled as the spray hit me. 

“You know, _I_ actually showered this morning.” 

“I wanted to _see_ you.” He growled, fingers curling into my hair and pulling my head back. “ _All of you_.” 

I sighed when he yanked on my hair, loving how rough he was being. He bit on my neck again, in nearly the exact same place, and my body shuddered in his hold. I felt his hand on my ass, squeezing my flesh fiercely. My cunt began to throb and a moan broke through my lips. He pushed me back against the wall, his mouth lifting from my neck to claim my lips. His hands slid over my body to lock onto my breasts, kneading roughly. I groaned again, my fingers traveling up his shoulders to bury in his hair, my thumbs where his sideburns would be if he’d had them. I felt him engorge against my leg, his member stiffening quickly. 

“Mmmmm.” I chuckled against his mouth. “Again?” 

“ _Again_.” He growled and grabbed my right leg, hitching it up on his hip. Then he used his other hand to grip his girth and force it inside. I yelped as he snatched up my other leg onto his opposite hip, forcing himself in deeper. His fingers hooked into my hamstrings painfully, the majority of my weight on the very tips, making them dig in even more. He pressed his chest against mine and I hooked my feet at the ankles, my thighs gripping onto his hips as they began to rock. It was slower this time, but his thrusts were far more powerful than they had been previously. I broke away from his kiss to cry out when he hit my cervix. He made a sound that mixed a growl and purr and drove in harder. I yelped again, my fingers curling in his hair so tightly that he moaned. Over and over and over he pounded me, each time my voice crying out from the pain. But the more he pummeled my most sensitive places, the better it started to feel. His body hit my clit with each thrust and I felt a familiar coiling deep within. 

“Don’t stop,” I begged and he snickered at me. His right hand released my leg and came up to my throat, fingers pressing on my carotids, his hips never failing in their torturous barrage. An intense pressure filled my head, making me feel like my face was getting puffy. My lips, especially, felt particularly plump. He kissed my mouth tenderly and then sucked my lower lip between his teeth and bit down viciously. I shrieked, my cunt spasming around his cock as climax overtook me. He continued, pounding again and again until I felt my body would explode from pleasure. I never came down from the high, never stopped screaming in rapture. His teeth released when he started to laugh. 

Finally, he stilled, his fingers lifting from my throat to push my hair back. Then he lifted me off of him, stepping back and setting me on my feet. He moved back under the spray and started to wash like nothing had happened. My legs were trembling violently so I lowered myself to the floor before I fell. My thighs twitched relentlessly, shaking my lower limbs forcefully. I tried to still them, but couldn’t so much as get them to slow. He watched me with a very satisfied smirk as he bathed. 

I let my eyes drift closed, just feeling the way my legs quivered and relishing the warm glow in my pussy. _This is the best thing I’ve ever done._


	19. Chapter 19

He wanted to go out that night. “I’ve been trapped too long.” 

Jonny showed up in the early evening with things from my apartment. Clothes and shoes, makeup, my journal. I raised a brow when he came in with my stuff. “Just how easy is it to break into my apartment?” 

He snickered, “You don’t wanna know.” 

I frowned at that. _Always good to know I wasn’t really safe at home_. But whatever. It’s not like I’m going back there. 

I noticed that my little prescription bottle of pills was missing after putting my things in the corner of J’s massive walk-in closet. For a moment I considered tracking Jonny down and asking if he’d not seen them in the medicine cabinet. But then I thought back to the first time I’d met the Joker and his utter disdain for psychiatric meds. More than likely, Jonny had been ordered to leave them behind. Of course, they don’t know how dangerous it can be to stop these kinds of medications cold turkey. Especially after prolonged use. For safety, you’re supposed to slowly wean off of them – a process that can take months. _I’ll just go back to the apartment on my own._ _Maybe tomorrow?_ _The last thing I need is_ _withdrawal symptoms._

After I did my makeup and put on my one little black dress, I pulled on a pair of red pumps. J gave me some of his jewelry – a couple rings, a chain, a cuff bracelet – all gold, of course. He wanted me to look like I belonged with him. And he certainly dressed to impress. If I was attracted to him at Arkham, it was nothing compared with the enticement I felt seeing him in his own clothes. Damn, he dresses well. 

A perfectly tailored black pinstripe suit over a green shirt with a deep “V” that revealed his chest and hinted at the many tattoos on his torso. Layers of chains. Multiple rings, an expensive watch, and more chains at his wrists. Diamond studs in his ears. He was absolutely mouthwatering. 

J brought me to the underground garage via elevator and went straight for the sexiest car he owned. A sleek purple little thing – a customized Infiniti G35 Vaydor that he’d dubbed the “Jokermobile.” 

“Get in.” He said as he opened the driver’s side door. 

“I thought Jonny was your driver…” 

“Nobody drives the Jokermobile but the Joker.” 

I had to smile at that as I climbed into the vehicle. The interior was pure white. He squealed out of the garage and I quickly clipped on my seatbelt, not used to traveling at such speeds. My fingers gripped onto the door handle, trying to keep myself steady as he took a corner wildly. 

“We’re gonna make a little pit stop.” He cackled. 

“Where are we going?” I tried to keep the unease I felt from my voice. 

“I gotta pay a visit to some _friends_.” He reached behind my seat, taking his eyes off the road and my stomach jumped into my throat. When he turned back he dropped a machine pistol into my lap. “They thought they could steal from me while I was locked away.” 

_I’ve never even touched a gun before…_

I stared at him as he told me to roll down my window. My voice caught in my throat, “What … what do you want me to do?” 

“You’re gonna kill them.” 

My eyes widened, “I don’t know how to use this.” 

“Point. Squeeze the trigger. It does the rest.” The car screeched around another corner and slowed to a halt. He grinned savagely and pointed to a group of people about halfway down the road, gathered on the sidewalk with liquor and cigarettes, “There they are. Get ready.” 

My hands shook as I picked up the gun. _They cheated my J. … They deserve to die._ I strengthened my resolve and pointed the muzzle out the window. He revved the engine and I saw some of the group look up the street. A few got to their feet, nudging their friends and pointing. J slammed on the gas and the tires squealed as the car shot forward. I squeezed the trigger as we drew near, the gun jumping to life as bullets shot out repeatedly. J laughed maniacally as he sped past them, the pistol bouncing with each shot, and I saw bursts of blood exploding from different bodies. 

When we’d passed them I released the trigger, feeling a high I didn’t expect. It was a lot more fun firing a gun than I’d thought it would be. The car sped around a corner, then another, and another until we were back on the same street. He didn’t even have to tell me what he wanted. I held the gun out the window and started shooting again as we passed by the group, making sure I got any survivors. 

I pulled the gun back into the car and tossed it behind my seat. With shining eyes and a huge smile, I looked over at him as he drove, “That was fun.” 

He cackled and pressed down the accelerator, making the vehicle jump when he shifted gears. Before long we were in front of the Smile and Grin. He parked in the one RESERVED space and we both climbed out. J took my wrist and pulled me toward the club, ignoring the bouncers who nodded at us as we passed. Once inside he went straight for a cordoned-off VIP area that was curtained with thin strings of gold beads where Jonny was waiting. 

“Everything taken care of?” the bearded man stood when we approached. 

J stood me in front of him, putting his hands on my upper arms and crowed, “She performed beautifully.” 

_Was that a test?_ I wondered as J pushed me toward the curved cushioned booth and I sat down. 

He sat next to me and told Jonny to get us something to drink. The man left and returned before a minute had passed with an empty flute and a bottle of champagne for me and a tumbler of amber-colored liquid for J. Joker took the tumbler and Jonny set down the flute, popping the cork off the bottle and letting the foam drip onto the floor. Then he filled my glass and handed it to me. 

“Thanks, Jonny.” I sipped the bubbles, crinkling my nose when the spray tickled it. 

J took a swallow from his glass and put it on the table in front of us. As he sat back, those crystal blue eyes scanned the crowd. 

“It’s good to have you back, boss.” Jonny sat down again. 

J stared at him with a grin, “You miss me, Jonny-boy?” 

He nodded. “I don’t like being in charge.” 

“Well, you kept things running. I know I can always count on you.” 

I tipped the flute, a larger mouthful of champagne dancing over my tongue. When I swirled the half-empty glass in front of me Jonny filled it again. It continued in that vein – I would drink a good portion from the flute, but never finish it, and he would fill it again. Finally, I put the glass down, feeling a buzz from the alcohol. J picked it up, held it in Jonny’s direction for him to refill it, then gave it back to me. 

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” 

He grinned at me, his teeth glinting in the lights, “It’s only fair.” 

I raised a brow but didn’t take the bubbly, “And that’s fair _how_?” 

“My men have seen you drunk. Now it’s my turn.” 

My head swiveled to glare at Jonny, “Just how much does he know about the last time I was here?” 

He shrugged with a smirk. “Everything.” 

J leaned over to growl quietly, “Who’s _Joey_?” 

My face flushed a deep red and I snatched the flute, spilling champagne on my dress and bringing it to my lips to tip it back so I wouldn’t have to speak. I drained the whole thing to buy time, but my brain was already starting to get fuzzy from drinking, and I couldn’t think of a smart-aleck response. Joker took the glass from my fingers and handed it to Jonny. Then he gripped my chin between forefinger and thumb. “I asked you a question.” 

I couldn’t break his gaze and I felt my heart start to pound. _God, he_ ** _does_** _things to me._ “No one.” 

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.” His fingers squeezed on my chin. “Do not lie to me, my little harlequin.” 

I glanced at Jonny and J pinched tighter, shaking my jaw a little. “Don’t look at him. _I’m_ the one asking.” 

My eyes flicked back and forth between his, “I just didn’t want him to think I was available.” 

“ _Why_ _?_ ” 

I swallowed. “Because I had already given my heart to you.” 

He released me then, sitting back with a laugh. Jonny held out the refilled champagne and I took it, drinking the majority of the flute’s contents in one swallow. Why was it so embarrassing to admit that? 

Jonny filled the glass again and J spread his arms wide, “Harley girl, you can do anything you want. Just say the word and it’s yours.” 

I looked away from the men, trying to slow the pounding of my heart. My eyes skimmed over the crowd, settling on the gyrating form of one of the strippers. I watched her for a moment, sipping my drink. I didn’t notice J sliding close to me until he was right at my side, his mouth by my ear, his eyes on the same girl. 

“You wanna take her home?” he purred. 

I jumped at his nearness, shaking my head in embarrassment. I’d never been with a woman. Never thought I wanted to. But now that it’s an option … 

I stood up suddenly, wavering on my feet from the alcohol’s effects. Then I walked around the table, away from J. 

“Where you goin’?” he demanded. 

I spun, barely catching myself, and stared down at him before answering sassily, “Dancin’.” 

I moved away from the VIP area and into the crowd of people. My hips began to sway in time with the music and I tried to forget everything but what it was I wanted at that moment. I let go of my inhibitions, aided by the more than half a bottle of champagne in my stomach, and slid my hands down my body. My hair tossed over my shoulders and I felt someone sidle up behind me. I buried my fingers in my hair and ground my ass on his crotch – it was definitely a man. A hand slid over my hip and splayed on my stomach, pulling me tighter against him. I leaned my back against his chest and tilted my head up to smile at the stranger. 

_I can do whatever the fuck I want._

I turned around and pressed my body against his, feeling his hands gently grip my ass. We danced like that a while, my arms eventually winding around his neck. And then I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. 

_Make out with a stranger – cross that off the bucket list_ _._

When the song ended I pulled away and grinned up at him. He ran his fingers through my hair, “You wanna get out of here?” 

I shook my head and he stepped closer, putting his hands on my waist, “Come on, baby.” 

I giggled and pointed in the direction of the VIP area without turning to look myself, “I’m with _him_.” 

The man’s gaze followed my finger and then his face turned white, his eyes widening in fear. He stumbled backward and ran straight out of the club. I nearly doubled over in laughter. 

I refused to look back at him as I walked deeper into the crowd. _This is about what_ **_I_ ** _want._ Once again I lost myself in the music, dancing between people while watching the girl in a glass box a few feet from me. She moved so fluidly, never pausing in her gyrations. My head tilted to the side, my eyes raking her form. _I wonder what pussy tastes like…_

That shook me out of my stupor and I turned away from the box, though I never stopped the swaying of my hips. I caught a pretty young woman quickly averting her gaze and watched her until she glanced at me again, snapping her eyes away when she realized I was looking at her. _How flattering._ I started to match her movements and when she looked my way again I curled one finger, calling her over. 

I saw her swallow nervously, but she crossed the floor in my direction. When she got close enough I caught hold of a wrist and pulled her close. “Dance with me.” 

She nodded, a small smile curving her features. I couldn’t stop the words in my mouth, “God, you’re beautiful.” 

She flushed and it brought such a pretty color to her face. I felt a flash of desire and wound my left arm around her lower back, pulling her into me, our hips swaying in time together. My right hand tucked a lock of hair around her ear, trailing down her jaw to lift her chin until her eyes were locked on mine. “Do you want to kiss me?” 

Her body stiffened, but I kept us moving. The poor girl looked terrified. “I … I’m not … not supposed to want–“ 

“Oh, _baby_ .” I broke in softly before smiling seductively. “You can do _anything you want_.” 

And then I kissed her. Her fear only made it better. I slid my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer. She melted into me and I marveled at how soft she was, parting my lips and drawing her tongue into my mouth. My entire body buzzed euphorically. 

Her hands slid around my back and I knew then I wanted her. I broke the kiss and stared into her eyes. “Let’s go find somewhere private.” 

She pulled away, shaking her head violently. _Shit, I scared her._

She turned to walk away but I caught her arm, “Wait. I’m sorry, come back.” 

But she broke my grip and headed straight for the exit. I moved to follow, but I could feel his stare boring into me. I paused and couldn’t stop myself from looking in his direction. 

My heart froze when I saw the way he was staring at me. I had seen that look before, when I’d thrown myself off his lap. Lust and ownership and hunger. He curled one finger like I just had, beckoning me to him. 

_If I go over there, he’s going to fuck me in this club_. 

I looked to the door that led out and looked back at him. Hairless brows were raised in warning. I’ve never disobeyed him. 

_I can do anything I want? Let’s see how far that goes._

I walked through the people, acting like I was taking the same route back to the VIP section as I had when I’d gone to dance. But when I should have turned left, I beelined straight and through the exit doors. 

Out in the fresh air, the world seemed impossibly quiet. I looked up and down the street, wondering where the girl had gone. _I didn’t even get her name._

“Hey, did you see a pretty little brunette come out here?” I asked one of the bouncers. 

He nodded and pointed up the street, “Yeah, she took a taxi that way.” 

_Damnit. I lost her._

I started up the street, as if I could somehow catch a taxi I couldn’t even see, and I heard the door open behind me. A smile overtook my lips because I knew who it was. And when a hand grabbed my arm, yanking me backward until I slammed into the building, I laughed. I was definitely still feeling all the alcohol in my system. 

Fingers curled around my throat and I groaned with desire. His voice was dangerously low, “Where are you going, Harley?” 

I smirked at him, “ _Wherever I want._ ” 

I felt him pressing on my carotids, his other hand knicking under the hem of my dress and into my panties. He found me to be already wet and easily slipped a finger inside, “You wanna go find your little friend?” 

His finger danced in and out before curling to press on my g-spot, flicking against it expertly. I moaned loudly and shook my head. The bouncers didn’t even so much as glance our way. 

“I can’t _hear you_.” 

“No.” I gasped, feeling an orgasm building. 

“No?” He kissed my lips, my head pulsing from lack of oxygen. “Where do you _want_ to go, then?” 

I shuddered and gasped again, my hips rocking on his hand. My fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket as I strained for release. The hand on my throat shifted, lifting off my arteries and pressing on my windpipe and his finger stilled. I cried out in frustration. 

“I asked you a question.” 

My hands slid up to his shoulders, interlocking behind his neck. “Take me home,” I begged. 

He smirked and lowered his hand from my throat to grasp my breast. His finger pushed on my g-spot again as he crushed my mouth with his, “You wanna go home?” 

“ _Yes._ ” I whimpered, wriggling my hips. He didn’t move his finger, just left it pressing hard and I was desperate for climax. “ _Please_. I need you to fuck me.” 

He withdrew from me then, stepping back completely. I whimpered again, feeling empty at the lack of his touch. He chuckled. “Come on, baby.” 

He brought me to the car and we were back at the penthouse in minutes. Once inside, he literally ripped my dress off of me and threw me over his shoulder, slapping my ass savagely. I shrieked at the pain and he cackled in joy. 

He threw me on his huge bed and stripped off his clothes. I wriggled out of my panties and pulled off my bra. I went to take off my shoes, but he stopped me, crawling onto the bed and between my legs. “Leave them on.” 

He thrust into me, his hands clasping around my throat and I sighed happily. His fingers tightened as he began to pound, each thrust filling me with bliss. I wrapped my legs around him, tilting my pussy so he could push deeper. 

“Put your arms around me, Pumpkin, I want you to hurt me.” He growled and I wound my arms about his ribs, digging my nails into his back and raking them down his skin. He groaned loudly, his head rocking back. 

He leaned down over me, letting go of my throat and sliding his arms under me, his hands grabbing onto my shoulders. He held me firm, hammering into me repeatedly. I lost count of how many times I came. 

He roared his climax and collapsed on top of me. I fell limp, every fiber of my being suffused with afterglow. Eventually, he rolled to the side, one leg draped over both of mine, his arm resting on my torso with his hand around my throat. He bit my cheek gently and I giggled. 

“Mine.” He whispered. 

I turned my head to kiss him, “Always.” 

And that’s how we slept – curled up in each other.


	20. Chapter 20

I enjoyed reading your diary, little girl. It made me want to write my own entry. 

The stay at Arkham was amusing... at first. I could recover from my attack without further interruption by a certain costumed freak. It wore thin VERY quickly and I'd already begun working on escaping when you came through those doors. It was perfect. You were so... 

_I've been trapped too long. Kill her now._

You were supposed to die that day. A means to an end and the joke would have been on you which would have been delicious. However the way you stabbed that bitch Alera _slicing flesh screaming he he he he he where's my knife?_ And you wanted it. You wanted more... It made me want you more. _Kill her._ I saw something that day. _Trapped too long._ Perhaps you too had been trapped too long. We shall see... I could make you smile yet. 

I'm glad Jonny went to get your things and it pleased me to see you become upset with the ease in which he broke into your place. _Do you think you are safe?_ Safest place in Gotham is by my side. _Unless I kill her_. I could show you how to never be afraid again. To be free to do what you wanted. And now that I was free, people needed to know it, so we got ready to go out. Let no one mistake who rules this town, and who is by his side. The way you looked at me made my blood boil, my Harley girl. If you think this looks good, wait'll you see my car. _He he he he he._

Nobody drives the Jokermobile but the Joker. Damn right. Which means I had a job for you, babygirl. I hoped very much you wouldn't disappoint me. _Kill her now._ I drove fast to make you squeal. To see your fingers digging into the leather as I rounded turns, your adrenaline rising. Good, it'll make it easier for you. 

"I gotta pay a visit to some _friends_." and I handed you the gun. What what what will you do? They stole from me so they are going to die. "You're going to kill them." 

Your eyes went as wide as a virgin's and my cock began to harden. "I don't know how to use this." 

Thinking of you unleashing my unholy fury on my enemies filled me with desire. I thought of bending you over the seat and tearing that little black dress off of you, aiming my cock right at your little kitty. "Point. Squeeze the trigger. It does the rest." The sound of gunshots went off in perfect time to the fucking in my head and I howled with glee as I sped the car around over and over until no one was left standing. You did such a good job, my Harley girl. 

"That was fun." you said. You're perfect. The way you make me feel is different from anything. I hate it. _Kill her_. I will kill anyone who takes you away from me. 

We entered the Smile and Grin. All eyes went to us. Who the fuck is with the Joker? When did he get out? Where's Batma... _Who the fuck said that?_ Tall, cheap suit, cheap haircut. I'll kill him later. Now where was I, Pumpkin? Ah yes, the VIP room, where I could show Jonny what a good girl you had been. Give you a taste of something different, something new, yet again. Seeing you drink the champagne. You give the slightest shudder of pleasure with every mouthful, and although I'm talking to Jonny, my focus is solely on you. It makes me want to grab you by the hair and smash your face against the mirror. _Yes, Kill her._ You understand it's all the same don't you? The shards of glass embedded in your beautiful face and the bubbles tickling your tongue... 

It took even me by surprise. Taking the Asylum would be easy and there would be no survivors. And then there you were. So sweet. So... EAGER. _He he he he_ Like the first time I took you. I knew we would fuck, but the way you looked at me when my cock entered you and my fingers closed around your throat... _yes, squeeeeeeeze_ I told you to cum and you obeyed. No one else has done that before. I began to experience doubt for the first time since... 

I want you to be mine. I want you to be free. Pain is pleasure. Pleasure is pain. At the VIP club getting you drunk. Watching you. Making you squirm. Making you talk. Telling me you'd given me your heart. I laughed so very hard. It's the best joke you see? I want you to be mine, always. I want to cause you pain. I will personally kill anyone who gets in the way of my Harley Quinn. So be free Harley girl. You can do whatever you want. You just have to ask and it's yours. 

We'd barely even started before you got up to go dancing. I watched you walk your way to the dance floor. My mind whirled. I needed to focus. _Kill her_ "Jonny, I need a gun." It was my favorite, my purple and gold Colt Gold Cup Trophy, and I aimed it straight at you. "Now tell me about the Bat." Games always make me think clearer. I was able to focus on your dancing while Jonny filled me in. Watching you becoming you through the sight of my gun. I laughed when that boy was grinding on you. He would piss himself if I went over there with the smallest of my knives. _Whore. Kill her!_ I want you murderously. When he looked over and saw me pointing the colt I howled. Funny enough to put the gun away. And the way you laughed at him. You keep doing so well. Making me burn with lust seeing you with that girl on the dance floor. I enjoy when you surprise me, Pumpkin. Now come over here so I can fuck you. 

And then you walked away from me. _Fucking kill her! I HATE when you surprise me, Pumpkin._ I left Jonny there without a word. Didn't have to say anything. Reliable Jonny. This is about you now. Chased you all the way outside. Shame I didn't find you with the girl. That would've been fun. I caught you around the arm and slammed you against the wall and gave you my best grin. _Now we can kill her_. And then you laughed at the pain. _What a good little girl._ I wrapped my hand around your throat. "Let us always meet each other with a smile, for the smile is the beginning of love. Mother Theresa said that." _he he he he_ "That's funny," and I squeezed a little harder so you would hear the threat behind my words. "Where ya goin, Haaaarley?" 

" _Wherever I want._ " I could see in your eyes that you meant it, and you said it to me so I would hurt you for it and make you cum. And I was still so angry that you had disobeyed me. _Don't you know who's in control?_ I used my fingers to remind you of your place. Five around your throat. One in that sweet little cunt. _You are mine to do with as I please._ I made you forget about that bitch. I made you beg me to take you home and fuck you. So I did. We fucked and came, whipped and scratched one another until exhaustion and for one brief second it was all clear in my head _Mine_ before it shattered into a million pieces. 

Gotta talk to Jonny again. Joker's back. There's business. And there's you. I can't wait to show you my toys. _he he he he he_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by my partner, my own personal Joker. I think he did an incredible job, and certainly far better than I could have done! I hope you enjoyed his addition to this fic.


	21. Chapter 21

_HOLY SHIT_. I never expected … 

Actually seeing inside his mind … it’s incredible. _He wrote in my journal._ The safest place in Gotham is by his side. It doesn’t matter that the voices in his head tell him to kill me. I trust him. And if one day he does kill me … at least I’ll have actually had some happiness if my life. Anything good I’ve gotten, I’ve gotten from him. He could end my life and he still would have been the best thing that ever happened to me. 

I’d do anything he wanted. 

I woke up this morning feeling much better than I expected. I was so excited about not having a hangover that I pulled out my journal and wrote down everything that happened last night. If I waited I ran the risk of forgetting something and I want to be able to remember that forever. 

J came in as I was finishing. He must have snagged my journal when he picked me up off the bed and brought me to the dining room, where he sat me down in front of a huge plate of waffles. Then he sat at the head of the table and picked up a fork, “Eat with me.” 

I giggled and started to eat. He told me that I had been given a shot while I was sleeping – vitamins or some shit – which was the reason for my lack of hangover. _Who cares what it was, I feel awesome._ Then he said he would be busy all day. I wanted to go with him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. “You have your own plans.” He told me. 

“What plans?” 

“You’re going to play with my toys.” 

I gave him a look. “You want me to play.” 

He grinned, popping a bite of sausage into his mouth. “Jonny will take you out there while I’m working.” 

“I’d rather spend my day with you.” 

“Well, you don’t have much choice in the matter.” It didn’t matter which route I tried, there was no changing his mind. And I tried at least thirty. 

Finally, I crossed my arms and frowned. He snickered, which only made me more infuriated. “You know, you’re adorable when you’re pouting, baby girl.” 

I glared at him but he just laughed and drained the last of his coffee before getting to his feet. He stepped next to me and bent down to kiss my forehead, then slid his fingers around my throat, squeezing. My traitorous pussy reacted instantly but I bit back the gasp. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he does to me. However, I couldn’t stop my eyelids from drifting closed at his touch and I felt his breathy laughter on my skin. 

“I’ll see you later, Pumpkin Pie.” Then he kissed my lips and walked away. 

_Goddamnit now I’m horny and he’s fucking_ **_leaving_**. 

I snatched up a spoon, turned, and whipped it at him. “ _Bastard_.” 

He just laughed when it hit his back, but kept walking. I heard the _ding_ of the elevator and scowled. Then he was gone. I finished what I wanted of the waffles and showered, threw on some casual clothes and wandered the penthouse until I found Jonny sitting in the kitchen reading a newspaper. 

“Mornin’, Harley.” 

“Jonny.” 

“You ready?” 

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” 

“The Toybox.” 

I paused, waiting for more information, but he said nothing else. “Thank you so much for being so forthcoming.” 

He snickered and tossed the paper onto the island. “There’s no real describing it. You’ve just got to see it for yourself.” 

“Can we swing by my apartment on our way?” 

He got to his feet and crossed his arms, “Why?” 

“Just a couple of things that you forgot.” 

“Like what?” 

“My jewelry box. I kept it hidden in case of a break-in. Which is kind of funny if you think about it. … And my pair of backup glasses.” It’s not technically lying if you don’t disclose everything, right? 

“Yeah, alright.” 

So we took the elevator down to the underground floor and I asked that we take the cute little red thing I’d seen my first time in the garage. Jonny got keys from this giant box on the wall (how he could tell the keys apart is beyond me) and we got in the car. I’ll have to remember to ask J for the exact make and model. 

Jonny drove up onto the streets and started through Gotham. From the high-end neighborhood that housed the penthouse down to my block in the stretch of town that was maybe two steps above being classified as the “ghetto.” He followed me up to my apartment and into the bedroom, leaning on the doorjamb when I went to the closet. After opening the door I dropped to my knees and moved the stack of sheets off the top of a small wooden box. I popped the top off and looked through my meager collection of chains and earrings before sliding the top back on and getting to my feet. Closing the door firmly, I went to leave the room and Jonny stepped out of the way to let me pass into the living room. I turned left and slipped into the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and letting my eyes scan over the smattering of generic pill bottles. The space that usually held my prescription was bare. Jonny slowly strolled to the doorway of the bathroom and once again leaned on the jamb, this time with his arms crossed. 

“What are you looking for, Harley?” 

I grabbed the small rectangular shipping box off the top shelf and opened the side, tipping it so a pair of glasses slid partway out. I turned toward him to show what I was holding. “Just my glasses.” 

As I was putting them back and closing the box, he stepped into the room and swung the mirror completely open, looking into the medicine cabinet, “ _Just_ your glasses? Not looking for anything else?” 

“Of course not.” I lied. _Where the hell are my pills?_

He frowned. “You sure? You’re not trying to find your prescription?” 

I started, the surprise on my face inevitably giving away what we were really doing there. He nodded and closed the mirror, “Yeah, that’s why I thought we were here.” 

“It’s dangerous to just stop these kinds of medications. I need to wean off them –“ 

“You know what he thinks about that.” 

“But he doesn’t know –“ 

“He knows what he needs to know.” 

“Jonny …” 

“They’re gone, Harley. I tossed them on my way back yesterday.” 

“So let me go to the pharmacy. They have my prescription on file and they can –“ 

“No.” 

“Jonny, _please_. You don’t understand.” 

“I do understand, Harley. But he’s never gonna go for it. Trust me, it’s better to do what he wants.” 

“The withdrawal from these drugs –“ 

“Just drop it!” he snapped. “There is nothing either one of us can do here, ok? … Can we just go?” 

I huffed, but I knew he wasn’t being obstinate for his own sake. Jonny followed orders, plain and simple. He was one of the only people, if not _the_ only person that Joker trusted. He respected his boss and had supported him in all kinds of crazy schemes. No matter what Jonny felt about it, he did as he was told. So being angry with him wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I’d just have to confront J about it later. _That is not going to be a fun conversation…_

“Yeah, fine. Let’s go.” 

This time I followed him as we left the apartment and went down to the red convertible. He drove us back towards the penthouse, crossing the same streets we had just a short while before. Once we passed the high-rise it took about twenty minutes in the weekend traffic to get to the outskirts of the city. We pulled up in front of this huge cement building. It looked abandoned. Jonny carefully drove around the back and took a sharp turn so that we were heading straight for the building. There was a steep decline and we were on a corkscrew road underground. The car took the tight circles easily, but it seemed like it would never stop going. Finally, the road opened to a small parking area with a thick metal door. 

Jonny parked the car and I followed him to the door, where he looked up into the security camera before knocking a specific rhythm and it soon opened. Inside were men with rifles hanging around their necks milling around. One man sat in front of the screen displaying a high-quality image of the area outside the door. The solid metal door closed behind us and this guy turned a wheel in the center, sliding out two massive bars that locked into the walls. There was no way in or out without the doorman’s say so. 

I followed Jonny further inside and the space opened to reveal a long cement hallway dotted with doors. He opened the first one on the right and we walked inside. It was a massive room, the walls completely covered with every kind of gun you could imagine. I didn’t even know there were this many kinds of guns to begin with. 

“What is this, a dungeon?” 

“No, that’s back at the high rise.” 

“ _What_?” 

“J hasn’t shown you yet? Ah, I’m sure he will. It’s only a half dozen floors below the penthouse.” 

_What in the hell_ _even is this conversation?_

“There’s a _dungeon_. Below the _penthouse_.” I couldn’t wrap my head around that. Then what the hell was this place? 

“Yeah, doc. A genuine sex dungeon.” 

“A se-“ I cut off, my cheeks flushing bright red, “Oh, god.” 

Jonny snickered and shook his head then gestured to the mannequins that littered the floor of the room. “You gonna get started or what?” 

“What are we doing here? What is this place? And what are in those other rooms?” 

“This is where J takes people to get information … or just to have fun with them. You want a tour?” 

I nodded and followed Jonny through all the rooms. The first on the left was full of blades – daggers, swords, knives, fucking ice picks. One room had legitimate medieval torture devices. Another had lines of car batteries, jumper cables, a sort of dentist chair with straps for limbs, tools like wrenches and pliers and hammers. Another had whips and chains, a cat o’ nine tails, ropes. And that wasn’t all of the rooms. Finally, I looked to Jonny. 

“So why am I here again?” 

“To play. We set up the dummies cuz J figured you’d wanna use the guns first.” 

The shift in my mood was immediate, “I get to shoot stuff?” 

Jonny laughed, “What else did you think he meant?” 

“He said I was gonna play with toys. What was I supposed to think?” 

“What, like Barbie or some shit?” Jonny couldn’t stop laughing. 

“You breathe a word about this and I will cut off your balls.” 

He just shook his head and wiped at his eyes, “Come on, Harley.” 

We went back to that first room and I picked up a semi-automatic rifle. And I _played_. It was the most fun I’d had in a long time. I wasn’t too bad of a shot either. Not amazing, but I could probably hold my own if I ever needed to. I went through all different kinds of weapons. Jonny was a great teacher. A lot more patient than I would have expected. When I didn’t want to leave for food, he sent one of the guys out for pizza. We ate in the Toybox and I went back to shooting stuff. Jonny said I could try out anything in any of the rooms – J had a few enemies stashed in another part of the Toybox that he would bring out if I wanted to use the Iron Maiden or cattle prod or daggers. I stuck with guns and mannequins. 

We didn’t leave the Toybox until after 6. There was more traffic on the way back to the penthouse, so we got back a little before 7. Jonny told me J was due back at 8, so I left him in the TV room and went to take a long soak in the Jacuzzi tub. I couldn’t find my journal, which, of course, now I know why. So I recorded this entry in my phone while I bathed so I could write it out when I found the little book.


	22. Chapter 22

J walked into the bathroom shortly after 8 with a joint hanging from his lips. He inhaled before taking it in his fingers and telling me that Jonny was setting up sushi, clouds of smoke billowing from his mouth as he talked. He sat down on the side of the tub and stuck the cigarette in my mouth. I took a long drag but wasn’t really expecting much. My dormmate in college smoked. She let me try a couple of times but it never really did anything to me. 

I wasn’t expecting such a … green flavor. _I’m tasting colors now?_ There’s no other way of describing it though. Very green. The stuff in college tasted more like dirt. 

J turned off the Jacuzzi and I popped the plug so the water would drain. I stepped out and wrapped myself in a huge fluffy towel. He put the joint back between my lips and I inhaled again. 

“I got you somethin’.” He grinned. My eyes lit up and he chuckled, “It’s on the bed. Put it on and meet me for dinner.” 

He took the weed and walked out, popping the cigarette in his mouth again. I dried off quickly, thankful I’d wound my hair up in a bun so it wasn’t wet. My head felt a little cloudy as I walked into the bedroom, where I found a gorgeous red corset with black trim and a matching low rise red bikini-style panty with black ruffles and a little black bow. 

“Well it’s a good thing he’s not taking me _out_ for dinner.” I giggled to myself. Just when I was wondering how I was supposed to tie myself into a corset I found a zipper down one side. It was actually really easy to slide into. I went back into the bathroom once it was on to see what I looked like. _Holy shit … is that_ ** _me_ ** _?!_

I looked hot. And I felt sexy. I pulled my hair loose of the bun and brushed through the strands until they hung like golden silk down my back. With quick strokes, I applied some black eyeliner and mascara, a few flicks of peachy blush, and bright red lipstick. Then I was back in the bedroom where I pulled on my red heels from last night. 

The dining room table was completely covered with platters of different kinds of sushi and bottles of wine. J was sitting back in his chair, feet crossed on the table, puffing on the joint and watching the smoke curl and billow. I put my left hand up on the doorjamb and leaned against it, my legs crossed at the ankles. 

“You know, I think I’ve had maybe five kinds out of what you have here. It will be fun trying out new things.” 

His eyes snapped to me when I’d started speaking, raking over my body as I talked. “ _You_ look good enough to eat.” 

I smirked and entered the room, walking down the length of the table as he swung his legs to the floor. I snagged the joint from his fingers and took a drag as he pulled me onto his lap, “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to be dessert.” 

His hands explored my body as I puffed, feeling the cloudiness extending through my torso and trickling into my limbs. _This shit is good_. 

I slipped from his hold, taking the joint in my fingers and slowly exhaling as I sat in the chair to his right, where I had been that morning. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” 

“Famished,” he replied. But the look in his eye told me he wasn’t talking about food. 

I refused to meet his gaze or even look in his direction and sucked on the joint one last time before putting the roach in the golden ashtray between us. “Do you always get enough to feed an army? The table was just as covered this morning and we barely touched it.” 

He shrugged, “I like options.” 

I took a long look down the length of the table. “That’s a lot of options.” 

Rasping sounded and when I looked back at him he had another joint between his lips, a lit zippo in front of it. “How was your day, Pumpkin?” 

A huge smile took over my features. “I had so much fun.” 

“I knew you would.” He got to his feet and rounded the corner separating us, putting the joint in my mouth. “Now we’re gonna play a game.” 

“What kind of game?” I inhaled and took the joint with my right hand. He took my left and placed it on the arm of the chair, pulling a small length of black silk rope from his pocket and deftly winding it around my arm and the chair before tying it tight. “What are you doing?” 

He walked around the back of the chair and plucked the joint from my fingers, placing the burning end in the ashtray. Then he took my right arm and tied it like the other. “It’s a game about trust.” 

“Trust?” 

“You’re gonna trust me to be your hands. And I’m gonna trust that you’ll do everything that you’re told.” 

I looked down at the ropes, feeling a nice buzzing high and then smirked up at him. “When _are_ you going to take me downstairs?” 

One hairless brow lifted and he sat on the edge of the table. He picked up the cigarette and took a deep drag. “Just what do you know about downstairs?” 

“Jonny told me that there’s a dungeon a few floors below us.” 

He grinned wickedly and put the weed to my mouth. I inhaled as he said, “You wanna see my Playroom.” 

I nodded and sucked the smoke deeper into my lungs. He put it back in his mouth and pulled a cell phone from his jacket pocket, tapping on the screen. “That can be arranged.” 

An anticipatory twinge hit between my legs and I shifted slightly in the chair. He put the phone back and sucked on the cigarette. “They’ll need some time to clear everyone out. There will be some complaints, but they’ll all be well compensated for the inconvenience. So … with some time to kill … how about we go back to my game?” 

He pulled together a plate of sushi and lined up a selection of wine bottles. Then he proceeded to hand feed me. A bite of sashimi, a mouthful of wine that played with the flavors nicely. Nigiri, a different wine, more pot. He named all the different types as they entered my mouth, always careful not to spill a drop of alcohol, even though he tipped straight from the bottles to my lips. After every few bites he fed me, he’d pop a piece of sushi in his mouth and chew, swallowing with a mouthful of paired wine. And he smoked like a chimney. I think we went through at least three more joints. 

I was feeling very … floaty. Almost disconnected from reality. He held the pot to my lips and I shook my head. _I’m so fucking high._ Though I turned my head away, the joint followed and I knew he was determined I smoke more. “I can’t take any more.” 

His palm cracked across my cheek and he grabbed my throat, squeezing harshly. I shuddered as the pain washed over me, traveling lower and coiling in my cunt. _Fuck_ _,_ _that felt_ ** _good_** _._

“I’m _trusting_ you, Harley.” He growled, pulling m e forward so that my face was mere inches from his. “You have to _play_ your part, or the game is over.” 

I just want to please him. I nodded and he shoved me backward as he released my neck. He held the joint to my lips again and I inhaled obediently. We went through a few more rounds of sushi, booze, pot before his phone chimed and he pulled it from his pocket, barely glancing at it before putting it away again. 

He picked up a knife from the table and quickly cut through the ropes that bound me. “It’s time to show you the Playroom.” 

He helped me to my feet and I could barely stand upright. The floor seemed to tilt drastically beneath me and I had to cling to him just to make it a few steps. “ _Fuck_ , I’m _wasted_.” 

“That’s just going to make it feel so much _better_.” He slid my arm around his neck and picked me up easily, bringing me to a different elevator. Inside he pressed the button for floor 69. 

I snorted and began to cackle madly, “Oh my god, you are so _infantile_. You really are just a fuckin’ child, aren’t you?” 

He laughed as the doors closed and kissed me. By the time they opened again my panties were wet and my fingers were buried in his hair. He walked through a black waiting room and through one of the doors, heading straight for the second to last door on the left of a long hall. The door slammed behind us and I saw a glimpse of red as he moved into the room. He pushed me against something hard and set me on my feet. When he pulled away and bent to move my ankle, I was able to look around the room. It was a deep blood red – all four walls, the ceiling, the floor. There were drawers built into the walls, housing who knows what, with whips and ticklers and paddles hanging above them. A fur-lined cuff wrapped my ankle and he buckled it tightly. He moved to my other ankle and I let my eyes roam over all the leather and metal on the walls. _This has to be_ _every kind of_ _BDSM_ _product ever made…_

He straightened and took one of my arms, lifting it above my head and to the side. Another cuff wound around my wrist. “The Playroom takes up this entire floor. Each room has a theme. But _this_ one is my favorite.” 

“Mmmm. Maybe one day we can try all the different rooms.” 

He chuckled and moved to my other arm. When he was finished binding me, he stepped back from the Saint Andrews Cross and went to open the top of one of the sets of drawers. I noticed a wheeled black table to my right. He came back with a silk scarf and a tiny silver remote. It clicked and two panels in the wall to my left dropped inward before sliding apart. The majority of the wall was actually a giant screen. 

“We offer all varieties of porn to suit our clients’ tastes.” His mouth curved into a wide grin. “But they don’t know about the cameras in all the rooms. … At least not until they’re hand-delivered a copy of the hottest new porno – starring them.” He clicked another button and the room we were in came on the screen, but instead of us were an older man and a very young blonde. 

“Is that … Judge Hacker?” 

He nodded, a low noise rumbling from his throat. The remote clicked again in rapid succession, each time a new set of two or sometimes three people in the same room, all in compromising positions. “Judges, police, prosecutors, bank CEOs, the head of the Gotham post office, shop owners, teachers, fire chief, doctors, nurses, employees at _Wayne Enterprises_ …” 

From the way he said the name, I knew there was something important about that last one. “No wonder you own this city.” 

He turned, his eyes leaving the screen to stare into mine, “Oh, I do, baby. I am Gotham’s King. … Half of these people don’t even know about these tapes. If they’re lucky, they never will. But … once they have use to me, they get their very own copy. And I get my way.” 

I felt pride. And really fucking high. He clicked the remote one last time and it switched to professional porn. Gangbangs. Featuring choking. So many men lavishing on one girl. I felt a flood between my lower lips. 

He tossed the remote on the little table and moved to the side of the cross, reaching behind it and pulling on something. I heard a thunk and then began to tilt backward. It freaked the fuck out of me and I shrieked. J just laughed and tilted the cross until it was completely horizontal. With no support, I let my head hang freely, my hair brushing against the bright red floor. The thunk sounded again and when he stepped away the cross didn’t move. 

From the same top drawer he’d previously opened he got a pair of scissors. I felt cold metal slide under one side of the panties. 

“No, wait!” I cried, but I felt the scissors snip. “Damnit, I really liked those.” 

“I’ll buy you another pair.” The scissors slid under the other side and snipped again and he pulled the ruined fabric off of me, tossing it to the floor. 

My eyes never left the screen in the wall as his fingers played over my pussy lips, massaging and occasionally pinching. I squirmed and he pressed one finger against my clit, rolling the little bud in tiny circles. My breath came in little gasps and he switched his finger for his tongue. A low moan spilled from my lips as he licked and sucked and nibbled. I know I came at least three times before he moved away. 

When he came back, I heard a click and strong vibration. He spread my cunt lips with one hand and pressed something against my clit. I’ve never had a vibrator, so this was a completely new sensation. I came in seconds. But he didn’t move it away. I found myself cresting and falling repeatedly, gushing my climax each time. Finally, it clicked off and I heard it clatter onto the table. 

He undressed and I shivered from phantom vibrations. That same thunk sounded again and he tilted the cross more until I was completely upside down. My glasses fell with a clatter to the floor. I felt his hands trail up my legs until they grabbed onto my inner thighs and squeezed. I shivered and he stepped closer, bending his knees so that his erect member pressed against my lips. My mouth opened and I sucked him inside, my tongue swirling around him. Then I felt his tongue swipe over my pussy and I groaned. 

The blood rushed to my head as we continued. He started thrusting into my mouth, matching each one with a thrust of his tongue into my pussy. My moaning became one long continuous sound that muffled every time his cock hit the back of my throat. After five hits I gagged and he pulled back slightly but didn’t stop fucking my mouth. The girl on the video screamed and I heard the crack of someone hitting her and I came. He lapped at the fluid and finally moved away. I gasped repeatedly, trying to regulate my breathing. 

Another thunk and he flipped me upright, locking the mechanism again. I turned my head to watch the video, but he wound a silk scarf around my eyes from behind me, tying it tight against the back of my head. I could hear him gathering things. Opening drawers, taking things off the walls. Each item was placed on the little table before it was wheeled a few feet. 

The sharp tip of something metal touched my chest, just above the corset. He gripped near the blade and pulled the corset away from my skin. It sliced easily through the fabric. 

“Hey!” 

“This needs to come off.” With two hands and a very loud _riiiiip_ he tore the corset apart and tossed it aside. 

I frowned. “There’s a zipper.” 

His hand covered my mouth and I pictured his tattooed smile making me look happy. I felt my hair move and his dangerous tone sounded right next to my ear, “And I wanted to ruin it.” 

I shuddered. His hand slid down to settle around my neck and he pressed on my arteries. One finger rested on my clavicle and it slowly traveled down my ribs and across my breast, circling around the nipple. He pinched it between finger and thumb and rolled gently. My cunt throbbed and I sighed. The hand on my throat tightened and my head filled with pressure. I breathed normally, but no oxygen delivered to my brain. He pinched harder on my nipple and I moaned. 

Then I felt a cloud in my head. Just fuzzy and euphoric. As it grew, I started to feel disconnected from reality, then connected to everything in existence, then suddenly aware I was just one tiny person in a corner of the world with the man she loved. I wish there were better words to describe the way it felt. Rereading it, I can see that it’s not exactly right, but there just isn’t an accurate way to put it into words. Other than maybe to say that I tripped out. My brain panicked but I cried out in ecstasy. I felt the cloud spread over my body and absently wondered if I was going to die. The idea didn’t concern me. This would be the perfect way to go. 

He released me then, stepping back. Oxygen laced blood flowed into my mind and the cloud dissipated, washing in a different kind of pleasure. My body began to tremble violently. I cried out as my climax began and he slapped the breast he had been pinching. My voice raised to a shriek but I loved every second of it, my legs shaking under the power of my orgasm. 

Something soft trailed over my body. A feather maybe? It tickled my most sensitive spots and I squirmed against the restraints of the cross. He ran it over my limbs and across my torso, even letting it play on my face before exchanging it for something soft and fluffy. From the way it wound and caressed around me, I pictured a feather boa. That too brushed against every part of my body. Then it was gone and he was stroking my skin with what felt like silk. 

When that disappeared, I next felt a bunch of strips rubbing over my thigh. They were cool, smooth, and thin. Maybe leather? They lightly hit my thigh and I wiggled my hips. They slapped against the other thigh a little harder and I sucked in a breath. He brought them up over my stomach and across both breasts before hitting my side, the strips curling around my back and the Saint Andrews Cross. 

Something pressed against my clit and I heard the click milliseconds before vibration buzzed between my legs. He kept the vibrator held steady as he continued to whip me, each strike harder than the last. One leg, then the other, my other side, my breasts, back to my inner thighs. What started as grunts with each hit gradually grew to orgasmic shrieks. My climax was continuous, crested with each stroke of the leather. 

Another click sounded and the vibration intensified. I screamed. It felt like my entire body was shaking. Something clattered onto the table and I felt something hard and smooth running over my skin. It smacked the outside of my leg, the pain forcing another crest in my climax. Over and over he hit me with what I knew was a paddle and I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes. Not from the pain, but from the pleasure. I couldn’t come down from the high. 

He clicked off the vibrator and dropped it onto the table, one final crack of the paddle hitting square between my legs. I screamed again, a long gush pouring from my cunt. He withdrew then, and I was left quivering on the cross. Phantom vibrations rode through my veins and my whole body trembled. My muscles tightened and I came, gasping for air. I continued to shake, trying to come down from the high of bliss, but my body was too overloaded. I came again. _I’m not even being touched and I’m cumming what the fuck._ Two more times I came and then I whimpered. 

My legs continued to quake and tears soaked the silk around my eyes. “Make it stop,” I wept. 

His voice sounded right in front of me, low and dark, “ _No._ ” 

I shivered and felt another cresting wave wash over me, moaning loudly. Something cold and metal, a blade of some kind, ran down my shoulder. It turned, the tip sliding back up. He ran it over every inch of me, first the flat side, then the pointed tip, sometimes pressing the dull edge into my skin, others running the sharpened edge so lightly I wasn’t afraid of being cut. The entire time my body quivered. He wiped the flat part of the blade up my pussy lips and I whimpered. Then he pressed the dull edge against my cunt, drawing it upwards so that it ran straight over my clit, the pointed tip dragging harshly against it. A little squirt shot from my pussy and my voice trembled when I spoke. “Too much.” My tone begged him to stop. If I had been capable of stringing together more coherent words, I would have. “Oversensitive.” 

He chuckled darkly, “That just means that foreplay is over.”


	23. Chapter 23

Sorry for the break. J had another table full of breakfast food and wanted me to eat with him. He’s off “working” again all day. I didn’t even bother asking what it was exactly he’d be doing. It’s not like he was going to tell me. We talked about last night and he mentioned wanting to do it again. _Mmmm_ _, that’s totally happening._

Ok, back to last night. … Where was I? Right … _foreplay is over._ I was done. Overstimulated. Ready for an exhausted coma from which I would not wake for at least nine hours. And then he said those words. 

My chest heaved as a sob wracked me. “Wh… what?” 

I felt his hands on either side of my face, one thumb rubbing gently over my cheek. “Let’s have some _fun_.” 

My head shook. _I can’t take any more._ He stilled me and then forced my head up and down in a nod. “Yeah, baby. Come on.” 

One hand left my face and then he was inside me, thrusting madly. I dissolved into tears, further soaking my blindfold. It was too much. Too good. More than I could handle. And then it wasn’t enough. My crying turned blissful, desperate. “Fuck,” I groaned, “ _yes_.” 

“That’s it, baby girl. Give it to me. Come on.” His words were punctuated by his hips. Euphoria buzzed in every fiber of my being. _I didn’t know I could feel this good._

Pleasure crescendoed and I shrieked as my pussy streamed. 

“ _Good girl_. Give it to me.” His hand slid down my face and around my throat, squeezing. My head rolled back in ecstasy as he pressed his fingers down. That familiar pressure filled my head and his thrusts never stopped, never slowed. Again and again I climaxed, a fucking waterfall that dripped down my legs. 

He shifted and his mouth enclosed on my breast. He suckled and rocked my head side to side. Then he bit down harshly on my nipple and shoved my head back further, his fingers gripping tighter on my neck. I screamed. 

He released me then, bending down to uncuff both my ankles. He took one in each hand and shoved my legs up like he had the first time we fucked. But this time he hooked my feet behind my head – something I hadn’t attempted since quitting gymnastics, but was pleasantly surprised to find out I could still do easily. 

He thrust inside me again, driving far deeper than he had been. I cried out loudly. 

“That’s better.” I could hear the smile in his voice. That fucking grin that makes me go weak-kneed. His hands grabbed my breasts and began kneading roughly. 

Time stopped existing. Either that or I just lost track. We seemed to go on like for that forever and once again I couldn’t keep count of my orgasms. My throat started to feel dry from all the gasps and groans and screeching I was doing. 

Something scraped on the little table and I felt a hard pinch on my nipple. It made me yelp. Another scrape, another sharp pinch, this time on the other side. He palmed my breasts, wiggling them side to side and flicked whatever it was he’d clipped to me. I shrieked and he snickered. 

_Fuck it hurts._

_Fuck it feels so good._

_Shit. Yes. Fuck me._

_Don’t stop._

_It’s not possible_ _to feel this good._

_Don’t stop. Yes. Fuck me._

“Fuck. Me!” I cried. 

He grabbed my ankles, pulling them from behind my head and putting them on his shoulders. Then he gripped my quads and held me tight against him, pounding my cunt furiously. I found myself on another never-ending climax that crested with every thrust of his cock. It shifted ever so slowly. The pleasure started to fade. It started to hurt. Started to become too much again. I couldn’t take any more. 

And then he clicked on the vibrator. 

“ _No_ .” I begged, “I can’t. _Please._ ” It pressed between us, wiggling until it pushed squarely against my clit. I sobbed, “No, no, no, no, no, nooo.” 

My head snapped to the side when he backhanded me. “ _Yes._ ” He growled. I understood what they meant when people said they “saw stars.” Bright white flashed behind my eyelids when he’d hit me. And damn if it didn’t feel amazing. 

“ _Again_.” My voice moaned without my consent and he slapped the other side of my face three times in quick succession. 

He pressed his torso closer as he fucked me, keeping the vibrator exactly where it was. Then he wound both hands around my throat and squeezed harshly. “You’ve waited your whole life for someone to put you here. Just like this. You know it. I know it. And that’s why your protests fall on deaf ears with me. Now, _cum_.” 

Goddamnit, I did. Hard and long. Because he was right. 

“Good girl.” 

I tried to come down from my climax, from the orgasmic high. But I couldn’t. The vibrator rocked against me with every curling thrust. I felt another cresting wave coming, but I was so tired. So done. I didn’t care if it made him hit me again, I couldn’t stop the words in my mouth, “Stop. Please.” 

He laughed and the vibrator never stopped rocking, his cock still sliding in and out repeatedly. I begged him again, “ _Please._ … I can’t.” 

He pulled the blindfold from my eyes and I blinked until he came into focus. “I’m not the one moving.” 

I looked down and fuck me he was right. He was standing still. _My_ hips were the ones rolling over and over again against him. I gushed again and he kissed me. Then he started thrusting and I was helpless against the tide of bliss. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I groaned. “Turn it up.” 

He laughed again, “It’s already on the highest setting.” 

_Who is this sex freak in my skin?_

He pounded me until I screamed from pleasure. My legs began shaking and he tossed the cordless Hitachi magic wand onto the table and moved my legs lower, around his waist. My thighs quivered relentlessly as I locked my ankles behind him. He wound the scarf around my neck, holding either end in each hand. And then he pulled, the silk drawing tight against my skin. 

“I think about you dying a lot.” He smiled at me. “Because you were supposed to. … I wasn’t supposed to want you.” My head began to pulse and he drew the silk even tighter. I hadn’t read his entry in this journal yet, so this was all new information for me. “There could be a thousand universes, and I would find you in all of them, drive you mad, and make you mine.” 

I felt that trippy cloud descend on me again, filling my head and spreading throughout my body. My eyes rolled back in rapture. 

“I’ll make you cum, I’ll hurt you as much as you want … I’ll fuck the skull of anyone who crosses you as long as you say you’re mine. Now _cum for Daddy_.” I gushed again, a strangled cry ripping from me. He dropped the ends of the scarf and it fell from my neck. The return of blood to my brain washed my body with euphoria and I came harder, my cunt bearing down on him. “Who am I?” 

“You’re my Daddy,” I moaned. He grunted and I felt his cock pulse his cum deep inside me. His hands buried in my hair and he pulled my mouth to his. I whispered against his lips, “And I’m _yours_.” 

He kept thrusting, still mostly hard, and then he ripped the clips from my nipples. Pain like I have never felt screamed through my breasts and I howled. He laughed. “ _Cum._ ” 

I did. So hard that I pushed him out of me. He chuckled again, and kissed my eyes, “Such a good little girl.”


	24. Chapter 24

I want to get this in perfect order, so I’m going to write like I would have if I were narrating my life as I lived it. 

I finished writing my last journal entry and was just about to look for Jonny when I started to feel horny. Really _really_ horny. Like, sailor back from a yearlong celibate trip needs to fuck his wife horny. At first, I thought it was just from reliving Saturday night as I had been writing. But it got so intense I had literal pain. 

I got in the Jacuzzi and let it fill around me as I used my fingers on my pussy. When it was high enough, I turned off the water and turned on the jets. The force of the jets almost matched that of the Hitachi, and I positioned myself against almost all of them in turn. I don’t know how long I sat in the tub. I don’t know how many orgasms I gave myself. It was never enough. 

My cunt ached horribly. I was desperate to be filled, and J would be gone for hours. Then I remembered the designer shampoo in the shower, the one with the very … appropriately formed bottle for my current needs. I got out of the tub and ducked into the shower stall, grabbing the bottle and going back to the Jacuzzi. The air was a little too cool on my skin after the hot water, so it felt glorious to sink back into the bubbles. 

I went to town on myself. It wasn’t the same. Wasn’t enough. But it lessened things enough that I wasn’t in pain anymore. By mid-afternoon, I was able to wearily climb from the tub. The next few hours were spent napping naked on J’s bed. 

I woke a little before 6 and dressed in a blue blouse and skinny jeans. My stomach rumbled when I smelled Chinese food so I wandered into the kitchen, where I found the island counter littered with take-out containers. I grabbed one and found a fork and started eating. The door swung open and Jonny walked in. 

“Thought I heard you.” 

“Did you eat already?” 

“’Bout half an hour ago.” 

“Sorry for … hiding out all day. It’s been … odd.” 

“Not a problem. We were just supposed to go back to the Toybox.” 

“So what did you wind up doing all day?” 

He shrugged. “I read for a bit. Watched a couple movies. I was just about to put on another one.” 

“Can I come?” 

“Of course.” He grabbed a couple more containers of take-out and an open bottle of wine from the fridge before leading me to the TV room. After we sat down he handed me the remote, “Just click through until you find something you wanna see.” 

“Even Disney?” I smirked. 

He made a face and I laughed. I scrolled through the titles between bites of Chinese and finally settled on something I hadn’t seen in years. _Cruel Intentions_. Jonny groaned and rolled his eyes but I just told him to stuff it. 

I drank the wine straight from the bottle and tried at least one bite from all the containers that had been brought in. _I forgot how dirty this movie is._

My mind started to wander. I daydreamed about being touched, being fucked. When I realized it wasn’t J’s hands on my pussy in my head but Jonny’s, I shook it to try and clear the thoughts. _Just focus on the movie, Harley. … Right, like watching_ ** _this_** _movie is going to help me_ ** _not_** _be horny…_

I curled up in the corner of the couch, my hand holding the wine bottle upright next to me. No matter what I tried, I still found flashes of me and Jonny in _very_ compromising positions buzzing through my brain. _Don’t tell me two days of good sex have turned me into an addict…_

I took a long swallow of wine and put the bottle down, absently chewing on my thumbnail. That’s when we heard the _Ding_ of the elevator. Jonny got up and walked out of the room. 

“You’re back early, boss. Everything go well?” 

“Exactly as planned.” 

Their voices dropped lower, likely talking about specifics I wasn’t supposed to know. I just grabbed the wine and took another long swig. The movie was almost over anyways. Kathryn was just walking out of the bathroom when J strode through the doorway. 

“Go for a drive with me.” 

I nodded and clicked off the TV, “Let me just get my boots.” 

It took just a few minutes to grab socks and boots from the bedroom. I met J by the elevator and we went down to the garage. We got into the Jokermobile and I had just closed the door when he said, “No seat belt.” 

“What?” I was still in the process of reaching for it. 

“No. Seat belt.” He repeated. 

I stared at him in confusion, my fingers curling around it. He slapped me, his nonexistent brows furrowed in anger. “ _No._ ” 

My hand dropped to my lap and he started the car. When we peeled out of the garage, I grabbed onto the door handle for stability. 

“Put your hands on your legs,” J ordered. 

I let go and placed both palms on my quads. That’s when he jerked the wheel and the car screeched left. My head knocked against the window as my body was thrown sideways. He shifted and the car sped up and I felt my adrenaline spike. I tightened the muscles in my stomach and back in an effort to remain upright as he sped around the city streets. 

My heart pulsed in my throat. Without the comfort of having some kind of protection, the speeds at which he was traveling spiked my blood with fear. I tumbled against the door again as he swerved violently. I don’t think I have ever been so frightened. It was utterly terrifying. The car drifted around a corner and I unconsciously reached for the door handle. He cracked his palm on my leg, “Hands. In. Lap.” 

“You’re scaring me.” But I did as he’d ordered. 

“Good.” 

_What the hell?_

“Why didn’t you fuck Jonny today?” 

“ _What_ _?!_ ” 

“He deserves a reward for running things these past six months. I had you all primed and ready.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

He looked at me with a malicious smile. “Your orange juice. I put a triple dose of my special concoction in it.” 

My eyes widened and I stared at him. A mix of fear and fury flooded my veins. “What special concoction?” 

“A lust potion an old associate of mine whipped up for me. I haven’t had much use for it before now.” 

“You _drugged me?!_ ” 

“I nudged you in the right direction. Apparently not hard enough.” 

I glowered at him, my hands curling into fists. “You drugged me so I would be a _reward_ for your lackey.” 

“He watched you, ya know. In the bath. I told him he should have just gone in and taken you.” 

“Is this a fucking joke?” _He told Jonny he should have raped me?!_

“Of course not. … I’m very disappointed in you.” 

“Oh, the feeling is mutual. Is that what I am? One of your toys to be passed around?” 

“If that’s what I want you to be.” 

I snarled and started hitting him. He fended me off with his right arm but I was wild; enraged. My attack forced him to slow the car, though he was barely able to downshift between my punches. It finally stopped and he turned to use both hands to fight with me. But I threw the door open and jumped out of his reach. 

“Get back in the car, Harley.” He demanded. 

“Fuck you!” I spat and moved to the back of the Vaydor. Then I slammed my hands on the trunk as I shrieked, “ _Asshole!_ ” 

The tires squealed and the passenger door swung closed when he sped away. I flipped the bird at the departing vehicle and turned to storm away. Where I was going, I had no clue. I was just so angry. 

Within minutes I saw his headlights turn a corner ahead of me. He had driven around the block. The engine revved and I opened my arms, my feet hip-width apart and planted in the middle of the street. The tires squealed again, the car jumping forward, but I held my ground. _Run me over, fucker._ _Do it._

It gained speed with every foot, but I didn’t waver. _Let me die, who gives a fuck._ The brakes screeched and the car stopped mere inches in front of my knees. We stared each other down. 

“Get out now,” I said. He just raised those hairless brows. “GET OUT OF THE CAR!” 

The engine revved again. I just smiled and gave a little shrug, a challenge. _Face me or kill me_ _, what’s it gonna be?_ He climbed from the vehicle, leaving the door hanging open and approached me. 

“Why are you doing this?” I demanded. 

“I’m testing you.” He smiled like it was such a simple explanation. 

“ _Testing_ me? What, has everything been a fucking test?” 

“From the moment we met, Harley girl. You’ve done so well, but after today I just don’t know anymore.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I shrieked. “After everything I have done for you-“ 

“For me? Or for yourself?” 

I glared at him, “It’s the same thing and you know it.” 

“I never wanted a woman. Never needed one. But then I’m locked away for half a year and I finally start to envision the _perfect_ little girl and then,” his hands smacked together between our faces before separating wide, fingers waggling, “there you are. Showing me everything I want.” 

“So why the tests?” 

“I’m just supposed to _trust_ that it’s real? That this woman you’re showing me is who _you_ really are?” He walked around me, danced around me as he spoke. “It’s too convenient.” 

“ _Convenient_?! That I found myself in you?” I put my hands on either side of his face. “You stole my heart and now you won’t believe that it’s yours?” 

He spun out of my grasp and laughed, “Harley, Harley, Harley… How can I believe I own you when you don’t play by the rules?” 

A deep voice called out from behind J, a large man in a hat approaching with a tire iron in his grip, “Lady, run!” 

J turned, lifting one hand and pointing at the man. “This doesn’t concern you.” 

He turned back to me as the man said, “I know who you are. I ain’t gonna let you hurt her.” 

My hand dipped under J’s silver metallic jacket and gripped the gun in his holster. One smooth motion had it out and leveled at the man. I shot him between the eyes and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Then my arm swiveled and I aimed the gun at J. 

He laughed when the gun shook in my hand. It happened so fast … “Why did I do that?” 

“Because you wanted to, baby girl.” He grinned. 

“Why were you trying to scare me?” I demanded and his eyes crinkled. 

“You told me nothing had scared you more than Lonnie’s attack … I’m just trying to rectify that.” 

“So that’s it then? Terrify me, fuck me, pass me around, that’s what I’m good for?” 

He bobbed side to side and the gun followed. I was so angry. I had done everything he ever asked. I know he loves me … I could see it in that journal entry he wrote. Why couldn’t he see how much I loved him? 

“I have so many plans, baby. … I just have to make sure that these changes in you are permanent.” He pressed his forehead against the barrel of the gun, his fingers flicking in an encouraging manner and a different smile took over his features. “Come on, baby. Do it. You know you want to.” 

My finger curled around the trigger… but I could never hurt him. I held the gun firm and steady, an ominous threat to end his life, but we both knew I would never shoot him. 

He spread his arms wide, “This is your chance, Harley girl. You better take it.” 

I swallowed and whispered, “I can’t. I love you.” 

He moved so fast I didn’t realize what was happening. His hands flew up, snatching the gun from my hold and he tilted his neck, his body following like a dance. Then he held the gun to the side of his head. “Maybe I’ll just do it, then.” 

He leaned forward, taunting, “Is that what you want, Pumpkin?” 

I shook my head, eyes wide, “No. _Please_.” 

He put the gun back in its holster and backhanded me so hard I spun and fell to the ground. In a low, dangerous voice he growled, “Never point a gun at someone if you don’t intend to shoot them.” 

The pain in my cheek wound its way down my spine to coil in my cunt. I wanted him so badly. “What do I have to do to prove myself to you? I killed Alera. I killed those men who cheated you. I’ve done _everything_ you ever asked of me and more.” 

He stood over me, hands on the waistband of his black pants, and stared down at me. Then he pointed at me before sweeping his hand forward. “You do whatever you want, Harley. Go.” 

I threw myself upward to a seated position as he turned and walked away, down the passenger side of the car. My heart was frozen in my chest. _Don’t leave me._

“I want _you_.” He didn’t stop. “Do I have to mix up my own bath of chemicals? … I’ll do it. To prove myself.” 

I got to my feet and moved to follow him as he rounded the back of the car. “Now _that_ is an idea …” He chuckled darkly. 

He went to the driver’s side, put a hand on the window of the open door, and gestured to me, “Get in.” 

I did as he’d said and climbed back into the vehicle. He got in the driver’s seat and pulled the door closed. 

“Where are we going?” I asked quietly. 

“You’ll see.” His voice was full of promise. _At least he didn’t send me away._


	25. Chapter 25

He sped through the city streets, still not allowing me to use my seat belt. At least he didn’t take corners so hard I was thrown around. The car slowed in front of Ace Chemicals, parking at the end of a thin alley. We both climbed out and I followed him down to a nondescript door. He pulled out the gun I had used earlier and shot out the lock. Inside was a huge room, giant cylinders in the middle. He took my hand and brought me over to an open metal staircase. We climbed to the top of the very high platform and walked near the edge. J swept a hand toward the 9 steaming, bubbling vats of liquid, set three by three. “There. I was born down there.” 

_I used to be_ ** _normal_** _. Then I took a bath in some chemicals and became a god._ I wanted the same. Wanted to prove myself. Wanted to join him. These chemicals that unlocked his cells and broke his mind… _I could be a goddess_. 

“Question.” He rubbed the back of his hand down my arm. “Would you die for me?” 

_Give my life to save yours_ _?_ _Let you squeeze_ _the air from my lungs? Follow your orders_ _should you tell me_ _to take a bullet to the skull?_

I turned slightly to face him, knowing the answer immediately. “Yes.” 

“That’s too easy.” He paused. “Would you … would you _live_ for me?” 

_Dying is easy. It’s living that’s hard …_ _But to give my life_ _to you, to live my life for you, to let the Clown Prince of Crime_ _reign_ _supreme_ _and in_ _control of_ ** _me_** _, all that I_ **_am_** _, and_ _all I_ **_ever_** _could be_ _?_ _That’s easy._

I opened my mouth to answer but he continued. “Will you embrace me, and only me?” 

I nodded vigorously. _Who could ever_ _need more? You are_ ** _everything_** _._ _There’ll never be anyone else._

“Will you bind your spirit to mine … in _hate_? ” _Bind me. Bind my spirit, my body,_ _all of me the way you’ve bound my heart. Bind me any way you want._

“Do you _consign_ your _soul_ to me? ” _Duh. Do you really need to ask? What do you think I’ve been trying to do here?_

“Do you laugh at the world in _disgust_ ?” _As long as you’re right there laughing with me._ _Anything. Anything you ask of me and it’s yours._

“Will you stand with me and watch as we burn this city?” _My answer to all of these is the same and always will be._

“Do you take me, as I am, right here and now?” _Yes. A million times, yes. I do, I do, I do._

“Will you live for _me_?” 

“Yes.” 

He raised a finger in warning, “Careful. Do not say this oath _thoughtlessly_.” 

His left hand covered my lips with his tattooed smile. “Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes _power_ _.”_

His hand trailed down my face, one finger lightly resting on my lower lip. “Do you want this?” 

My voice never sounded so sure, “I do.” 

“Say it. Say it. Say it.” His voice was a manic whisper. “Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty-“ 

“ _Please_.” 

“God, you’re _so_ … _good_ .” He stepped back, gesturing below us to the vats. He’ll never know exactly how he ended up down there, in the bubbling embrace of the mother who made him. But me? I’ll always know. Because even if I forget, Mr. J will be right there to remind me. I make this choice, no one forces me. I do this out of love. Out of desire. Desire to be like him, desire to be perfect for him, desire … to be wildly free. He offers a gift and I take it, freely. _This is what I’ve always wanted. ... It’s better than a goddamn engagement ring._

“It’s you and me.” I murmured to myself, but somehow, he heard me. 

“You and me, baby. Always.” _Always. He said always. He really_ ** _does_** _love me._ If there had been any doubts in my mind, they were completely erased in that moment. 

I looked down at the vats of chemicals one last time before turning around to look at J. He opened his arms and I imitated, staring at him with devotion. Then I leaned backward until I was falling off the platform, flying through the air. It was a delirious feeling. 

Hitting the liquid knocked the wind out of me. Fire licked over every inch of my skin. I felt my glasses begin to melt and knocked them from my face. Lower and lower I sank below the surface, the chemicals burning away at me. It was everywhere – in my ears, trying to seep between my closed eyelids, scorching my belly button. 

I felt darkness closing around me. Was I dying? Those cracks that had weakened my psyche during the electroshock shattered completely and I was broken. My mind started to skitter from one subject to the next, a peal of girlish laughter echoing behind it all. The last thing I remember is a voice in my head saying  _I wanna_ ** _play_** before darkness overtook. 

And then I was in his arms, his kiss dragging me back to reality. I sucked in a deep breath, the liquid dripping into my open mouth. My eyes opened, the chemicals happily sinking into them, and I saw him over me, a smile on his face. He kissed me again and my arm wound behind his neck as I poured myself into him. And then he laughed. 

The pain was more than anything I had ever felt and it was over every part of my body. I could feel it altering me – seeping into my skin, into my cells, changing things. My atoms sizzled as the process truly started. Parts of me that had never before seen the light began to take center stage as other pieces withered and died. But all I could feel was the death. It was as if the chemicals were attacking my very DNA, peeling it apart and chopping pieces off, adding bits of themselves before sewing everything back up in an attempt to mirror what once had been. I opened my mouth to scream but instead, I laughed along with him. Joy suffused my being. Torment incinerated every fiber. Pain is pleasure, pleasure is pain. I understand it now. _One_ _and_ _the same_. 

He moved to the edge of the vat and set me down before climbing out. Then he took my hand and helped me over the side. 

“Well, ain’t you just sweet as puddin’.” I giggled. 

He ran his fingers through my hair and kissed me again. That’s when I noticed that our clothes were disintegrating. There were streaks of blue and maroon in the vat we had just left, our shirts having bled their colors as they fell apart. I picked up a section of my blouse and it tore away in my hand. I giggled again as I tossed it aside. J climbed the platform again, retrieving his jacket, and dialing the cell phone he plucked from the pocket. My skin was so hot I half expected steam to be wafting from me. 

I assumed he was talking to Jonny as he walked down the stairs. I watched his clothes falling off piece by piece, slowly revealing the alabaster muscles that enticed me like no other. By the time we got back outside, Jonny was there, holding open the rear passenger side door for us. He handed me his coat as I got in but I just threw it on the seat. I didn’t care who saw me naked. _Let them get a peek_. 

“Emilio went to get the tow truck for the Jokermobile.” Jonny said as my Joker climbed in next to me. J nodded and Jonny closed the door before walking around the car to the front seat. 

As he pulled away from the building my vision blurred. I blinked a few times, but it only made it worse. I could feel the chemicals dripping down my back and down my legs. My shoes were destroyed, having been eaten away in the vat, and between my toes burned something fierce. Sound distorted and I pulled on my ears as if all I’d needed to do was pop them. But it didn’t help. 

It felt like my organs were shutting down. My hand grasped at my chest over my heart. It became hard to breathe. I slumped against the seat, my muscles roiling. They pulled apart and smashed back together. My skin turned to liquid and dripped off of me. I started to panic. 

Then J’s voice, right by my ear, a soothing muffled tone. “You’re not dying. You’re not coming apart at the seams. … You’re becoming something _better_.” 

_How can you say that_ _? Can’t you see what’s happening to me?_

He kissed my cheek and I whimpered, the pressure of his lips making my skin crack and tear. Then I started to laugh. Different voices whispered in my mind, the loudest a childish version of my own repeatedly singsonging  _I wanna play, I wanna play, I wanna plaaaaay_ _._

J climbed over me and out of the car. Were we really back home already? I tried to follow him but my limbs wouldn’t obey my brain’s commands. He lifted me out of the car and carried me like a babe, the pressure of his arms like spikes. The tears that rolled from my eyes felt like shards of glass carving into my face. I still couldn’t see, couldn’t really hear. Changing colors told me when we were in the elevator, and then the penthouse. He brought me to the bedroom and I wondered if he would help me shower this stuff off of me. 

Instead, he placed me on the bed and ripped the last shreds of clothing from my body. Then he was gone. Flames licked every inch of me, coursing with my blood and boiling my innards. I felt the comforter below me coming apart, disintegrating from the remaining chemicals. 

Something dripped into my eyes and they cleared. Then my head was turned side to side and the same something dripped into my ears, sounds coming into focus again. I looked down at my naked form, surprised to see that my skin was intact and none the worse for wear. It really had felt like it had all sloughed off. Most of the chemicals were gone, absorbed into me. 

He climbed over me and wiped his thumb across my cheek. I winced. The slightest touch was like searing coals. His breath washed over my face, little razors gliding through my skin. 

I screamed when he roughly shoved my legs up and entered me. It was like being stabbed with a red-hot poker. My words were barely comprehensible, “No. _NO._ **_STOP_ **.” 

But he didn’t. He pounded me savagely, his voice euphoric. “This is the best it will _ever_ feel.” 

I wept bitterly, each tear another slice to my face. Pain ravaged me, burning away all of Harleen. But still, I came. The force of it ripped a shriek from my throat and he chuckled. 

“Good girl.” 

On and on it went. The most pain I have ever experienced, the best orgasms I’ve ever been given. I hated him and loved him. I tried to fight him off me, though that just caused him to pin me down and fuck me harder, then I was grabbing at him, pulling him closer, begging him for more. My body overloaded with agony and bliss, every cell overwhelmed and exploding from sensation. 

“Do you feel safe, _doctor_?” His fingers closed around my throat and when he squeezed it was like thick coils of barbed wire digging into me. 

“Yes.” 

His tone dropped low, “Even though I’m going to cut you later?” 

I giggled, thrilled at the idea of him making me bleed, “Ah, promises, promises.” 

He chuckled and kissed me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. My lips felt blistered and raw, his tongue like sandpaper on mine. 

“Cum good and hard, baby. Daddy’s gonna fuck your ass dry. You better squirt if you want some kind of lube.” His hands tightened on my throat and my eyes rolled back in my head. The promise of more pain coming made my pussy gush. He snickered and thrust into me harder. I don’t know how long I streamed. 

Then he sat up and pulled out of my cunt, pushing my legs up toward my head. I felt him pressing against my asshole and I shuddered. He entered slowly, meeting resistance in my virgin ass, but pushed through it. He thrust a few times, then pulled out and returned to my cunt for another coat of my juices. This time, when he entered my ass again, he slid in far more easily. 

“Oh-ho-ho, you little slut.” He licked the side of my face as he fucked my ass. “You opened right up for me.” 

“It hurts so good.” I moaned. 

“That’s right, baby girl. You love Daddy’s cock in your ass, don’t you?” 

“ _Yes_!” I cried. He pounded into me violently. “Don’t stop.” 

“Never.” 

_Then_ _I … became a god_. His words echoed in the hollows of my mind. I knew I was forever changed. No longer Harleen Quinzel. She died in that vat and I rose from her ashes, the goddess I was meant to be. I wrapped my fingers behind his neck and pulled him down to claim his mouth with mine. 

He gave me this. This joy, this change. He plucked me from my sad little life and showed me what it really meant to live. He unlocked my cells and filled them with his truth – pain is pleasure, pleasure is pain. No one will ever compare to my beloved Joker. And I know that he feels the same for me, his Harley girl. 

I am his and he is mine. _Forever_. 


	26. Chapter 26

My eyes opened on Monday to a completely different world. Ultimately the same, but I saw an entirely changed Gotham. Standing at the window, looking down on the peasants who crawled the streets like so many ants. None of them mattered. I could drop a bomb on top of them, destroy them, break a million hearts over the poor, sad, undeserved loss of life. The earth would still turn. The sun would still burn. And I would be here, watching more little peasants fill the void where these had been. 

This city that used to be so teeming with promise, with hope. What a joke. Gotham City, the underbelly of America. Full of criminals, victims, so-called heroes. And not a single one of them mattered. None but my J. 

It wasn’t until after I showered and saw myself in the mirror that I noticed how pale white my skin had become. _Now everyone will know who I belong to._

My stomach rumbled loudly. I picked up the clock in the bedroom. _Holy shit is it really 4:30 PM?_ No wonder I’m so hungry. 

I skipped the closet and stretched as I walked naked from the bedroom, feeling more limber than I had in years. The goosebumps that raised over my skin from the coolness of the air in the penthouse made me giggle. From the fridge, I gathered leftover Chinese from the night before. I hopped on the island and ate straight from the cold containers. After twenty minutes of completely stuffing myself, I heard the kitchen door swing open. 

“Oh, shi- Harley!” 

I giggled and looked over my shoulder at Jonny, “Did I scare you?” 

“I didn’t know you were up.” 

“Mmmm … I don’t have to be.” I lowered until I lie flat on the island, my head tilted so that I was looking at him upside down. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You should come over here, because I owe you something.” _And I’m horny_. _Yes! I wanna play!_

A slow smirk lifted his expression. Then he licked his lips. I grinned at him, my hands sliding down my torso to slide my fingers between my pussy lips. He slipped out of his jacket as he crossed the floor and I couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness. I sat up when he got to the edge of the island and started to unbuckle his belt while he loosened his tie. Unbutton, unzip, push them down _Show me what I want._

He was already hard. I was already wet. A match made in heaven. I guided him into me, locking my ankles behind him as he pumped slowly. His hands were tender and soft on my skin, as if I were delicate crystal to be handled reverently. One trailed down my spine, the other palming my tit with delicacy. I wrapped my arms around his back and slowly lowered back down, pulling him over me. He was sweet, gentle, nothing like J. But still, damn good sex. I was moaning out my ninth or tenth orgasm, the floor littered with spilled take out containers, when J walked in. 

“Enjoying yourself, Pumpkin?” His eyes glittered. 

I tilted my head to look at him upside down, a huge smile on my face. “So much, Puddin’.” 

Jonny’s thrusts never altered with the arrival of his boss, and there was something so erotic about the man I love watching me fuck someone else. His eyes locked onto mine, another man’s cock thrusting in my cunt. J approached us and took the tie from Jonny’s neck. Then he slipped the knot out and wound the fabric around my throat. 

My eyes fluttered closed and he didn’t make me wait long. J’s strong hands pulled tight on the tie, holding the ends taut so long that I felt that trippy cloud descend on me, filling my body with that euphoric fuzziness. I could swear he denied me air far longer than he ever had before. The pleasure that flooded my body was overwhelming. My brain panicked; from lack of air and being unable to handle the overload of bliss. He kissed me upside down and then lowered his mouth to my ear. 

“I made you turn purple,” he whispered as he released the tie. Oxygen flooded my lungs, my brain. Jonny sped up as I began to quiver all over. I screamed my climax, the orgasm taking over my entire being. Fuzzy. Shaking. Ecstasy. Too much. Not enough. Jonny cried out as he came and then stilled. 

I sat up and pulled gently on his beard, kissing him softly. “We are _so_ doing that again.” 

He chuckled and wiped his forehead. “Whatever you say, Harley.” 

I released my legs from around him and spun around to face Joker. “Is it my daddy’s turn now?” 

“Later, baby. I’m taking you out.” 

I grinned and he helped me down from the island. “Where we goin’?” 

“You’ll see. I had something made for you. It’s in the bedroom.” 

I clapped my hands excitedly. “Presents!” 

He slapped my ass as I scampered past him and I laughed. When my feet entered the bedroom, I gasped. _It’s so beautiful._ A mannequin stood in front of the bed, clothed in a full body suit of red and black. The colors alternated in such a pretty fashion, little diamonds decorating. A white looping collar. A two-sided jester cowl. Matching white looping wristlets and gloves that matched the colors of the sleeves. 

His voice behind me, “My Harley Quinn… the world needs to know you’ve arrived.” 

I spun on my toes and threw my arms around him, pressing my lips to his. “Aw, Puddin’, I _love_ it!” 

He helped me take it off the mannequin and put it on, with _far_ more fondling than was absolutely necessary. Then he handed me the cowl and collar and told me to finish getting ready in the bathroom. “Meet me at the elevator.” 

I found new makeup on the counter. A more pure white than my new skin tone, everything else black. I first pulled my hair into two buns, then I painted my face, drawing a mask around my eyes and coating my lips in black. I slipped on the jester hat and then attached the collar. On the bed, I found ankle boots that perfectly matched the bodysuit. 

_A perfect little harlequin._ ~~A monstrous little demon~~ ~~.~~ _I._ _Wanna_ _. PLAY._ ~~_Oh, yes. Let’s_ play. ~~ This voice was different, darker. A gravelly and dangerous tone that begged for mayhem. The other voices were softer, chattering incessantly in the back of my mind. But the little girl and the monster … they had the tendency to scream. 

I skipped from the room, feeling more like myself than I ever have. I heard them talking as I approached. 

“… confirmed a few minutes ago. Jason Todd is back in town.” 

“And Wayne?” 

“Still out of the country.” 

“Let’s give him one more night, shall we?” 

“You sure about that, boss? We’re far more likely to-“ 

“ _Jonny_.” J’s tone brooked no arguments, a thinly veiled rage boiling below the surface. 

The bearded man nodded and looked in my direction. J turned around and opened his arms, “Perfect.” 

I spun in a little circle, showing off all my curves. “Where we goin’, Mistah J?” 

“It’s a surprise, baby girl.” He pressed the button for the elevator and we were down in the Jokermobile in minutes. 

I looked out the window as we moved through the city streets. And then we were leaving Gotham. “But, Puddin’, I wanna _play_.” 

He laughed, “Oh, we will, darlin’. Don’t you worry about that.” 

We drove forever. What could be so special that we had to drive so far? We left New Jersey, crossed through New York and Connecticut. Then we were in Massachusetts. When things started to look familiar I turned to eye him quizzically. He just grinned. 

We pulled up in front of my childhood home and he stopped the car. I warily climbed out and slowly rounded the car, where he had the trunk open. “What’re we doin’ here?” 

He pulled out a large wooden mallet, decorated with little red diamonds on a white background, and held it in my direction. “No one hurts my Harley girl.” 

**~~ _YES!_ ~~ ** The voices shrieked in unison. I laughed wickedly as I took it from him, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Really, really, Mistah J?” 

“Lead the way, Pumpkin.” 

I turned and rushed up to the door. The spare key was where it always was – tucked under the mat. J flicked on the lights as we moved through the house and up the stairs. Soft snoring greeted my ears when we got to the top. 

There was no light switch in my grandparents’ bedroom, only side lamps on nightstands on either side of the bed. I opened the door slowly _Damn he fixed the creak_ and then I giggled. The snoring stopped, a shifting sounding on the bed. I waited a beat or two and then I giggled again. 

The light clicked on and Harold sat up, staring at the two of us in a stupor. “What? Who?” 

“ _Where? When? How?_ ” mocked J. 

I laughed, turning a brilliant smile on my ancestor. “Hiya, Grampsy. Miss me?” 

Horrified confusion marred his features. “Harleen?” 

“ _The fuck kinda name is Harleen anyways?_ ” I snarled. His eyes widened and I went back to my sweet girly voice. “I’m Harley.” 

“Harley…?” 

“I wanted you to know somethin’, PopPop.” I stepped further into the room, the mallet spinning in my hands. “You were wrong all those years ago. I _do_ have a Daddy.” 

Large eyes swiveled between the mallet and my face. “What’re you talkin’ about?” 

“Don’tcha remember? Tellin’ me I had a Father, not a Daddy.” My tone lowered as I tried to imitate his voice, “’He was tricked into fatherin’ you and ain’t nobody expect nothin’ else from him.’” 

“My son-“ 

“Nobody’s talkin’ about that piece of shit rapist.” 

He scowled, “ _Your mother_ -“ 

“ _Mama was an angel_!” I snapped. “A saint who didn’t deserve the hell she went through. But don’t you worry, I’ll be paying a visit to settle that debt with my other grandparents.” 

“I always knew you were rotten.” 

I laughed, “Oh, you have _no idea._ ” 

J growled, malicious intent glimmering in his eyes as he stared at the old man. I glanced at him with a smile before looking back at my grandfather with a giggle, “My daddy doesn’t like you very much.” 

Harold glowered at me. “You don’t have a daddy, _idiot_.” 

J roared, flying across the room and grabbing him out of the bed by his shirt before slamming him against the wall. “ _Yes. She. Does._ ” 

I laughed and moved closer, perching my head on J’s shoulder so I could look Harold right in the eyes. “My daddy is very protective of his little girl. Aren’t you, Daddy?” 

I kissed his cheek as he snarled, “That’s right, baby.” 

I stepped back and spun the mallet again. “I didn’t deserve what you put me through, Grampsy. And now you’re gonna pay for what you did to me.” 

Harold changed his tune then. I think Joker scared some sense into him. _My beloved Daddy_. “Kept you outta foster care. Raised you. Put a roof over your head and food in your stomach.” 

J snarled again and I chuckled mirthlessly. “Neglected me. Abused me. Deprived me of love and affection. Isolated me. Took away the one thing that actually helped me survive under _your roof_ because ‘I ain’t payin’ for no fuckin’ gymnastics if Henrietta ain’t here.’ _Stole my childhood_ . … But my Daddy, he loves to see me play. And Pops, for all eighteen years you fucked me over, I am gonna _play with you._ ” 

J whirled, throwing Harold to the floor. I raised the mallet over my head and slammed it down on his stomach. He yelled from the pain and I lifted the mallet again. Each word was punctuated with another hit. 

“You.” I smashed one knee and he howled. 

“Fucking.” A slam to his other knee and tears streamed from his eyes. 

“Bastard.” I swung the mallet like a golf club and his hip snapped from the force of the blow. Each crack of his bones made my smile wider. J started laughing that maniacal laugh I love, in the slow build I adore. 

“Go.” His other hip, more inane wailing. 

“Back.” The mallet came down square on his chest and I heard at least one rib break. 

“To.” Again on his ribs, the sound of snapping bones loud enough that his sobbing couldn’t mask them. 

“Hell.” One last hit to the chest and he gurgled, a burst of blood exploding from between his lips when he coughed. _Looks like I punctured your lungs_ _hahaha_ _!_ That darker voice echoed laughter through my brain ~~_hahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA_ ~~

His voice, so full of horror and regret and pain, begged softly, “Harleen, _please_.” I laughed at him. 

“ _Harley_.” Corrected J. He pulled a gun from his holster and pointed it at Harold, a fury I have never seen before etched into his face. 

“I’m all grown up, Grandpa. Isn’t this what you _wanted_ every time you screamed ‘Grow up, Harleen’?” 

“Please.” His pathetic voice was so weak. 

I raised the mallet high over my head and brought it down on Harold’s worthless dick as I spoke, his pelvis snapping instantly. “Tell.” 

“Henrietta.” _Slam, right on the nose._ Blood spurted from his nostrils and he screamed. 

“I.” Again to the face, the delicate bones giving way easily. 

“Said.” This time all his noises ceased. But I wasn’t done. 

“… FUCK! YOU!” Two final smacks to the face and I moved to other parts of his body, grunting with exertion every time my weapon came down again. 

I was gasping by the time I was done and the mallet dropped to the floor. _A worthless bag of broken bones. Ha!_ Blood poured from his gaping head. It didn’t even look like he had a face anymore. I spat on the corpse. 

“You did so good, baby.” 

I turned to J with shining eyes, “Oh, _thank you_ , Puddin’. Best surprise ever!” ~~_And just_ ** _exactly_** _what I wanted_ _!_ ~~

He pulled me close to him and kissed me deeply. I hopped up and wrapped my legs around his waist, his hands massaging my ass. He took a few steps and fell on top of me on the bed. I grabbed the chains around his neck, pulling him closer. “Mine.” I nipped at his lower lip. 

We fucked on my grandparents’ bed in my childhood home, Harold’s body cooling only a few feet away. Then J drove us home and we fucked again before falling asleep in each other’s arms.


	27. Chapter 27

For the first time, I woke before J. _Perfection._ Everything I could ever want. More than I could have dreamed. _Everything_. My King. My God. My Joker. 

I thought about last night, one nail between my teeth. Then I pulled out my journal to write. I was just finishing when his arms wrapped around me and pulled me against him. I giggled as I slid across the sheets and arched my back, rubbing my ass on his crotch. He growled and dipped his hand between my legs, his other hand grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking. _Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain_. I sighed, my eyes fluttering closed. 

We fucked our way through a shower and ate together before J told me he and Jonny had a few things to finalize before “the big show tonight.” 

“What, are we goin’ to the theater?” 

He snickered, “No, baby. A _much_ bigger show than that.” 

“So what am I supposed to do all day?” 

“Anything you want.” The way he smiled at me made me feel all gooey and evil inside. I smirked back at him. 

“Can I have some of your guys?” 

“Any way you like.” 

I giggled and sipped on the straw in my glass, “You know, this orange juice would be better as a mimosa.” 

J’s smile widened and he called into the other room, “Jonny, bring Harley some champagne.” 

A few moments later, Jonny entered with a bottle and added champagne to the flute of orange juice. 

“Thanks, Jonny.” 

He smiled in response, and I noticed J watching his expression with a smirk. Jonny put the bottle down on the table and walked out of the room. J grinned at me and then got to his feet. 

“You know, I think he’s sweet on you.” _He got that from an expression?_

“Awww, poor little Jonny.” 

“Three floors down, whenever you want. I’ll tell them to be ready for you.” He kissed my forehead while squeezing my throat and I shuddered in his hold. Then he bent to brush my lips with his and he was striding for the doorway, calling, “JONNY! Let’s GO!” 

I put on my harlequin outfit again, my cleaned mallet right next to the red and black ankle boots. Hair and make-up like the night before, cowl and collar placed perfectly. Zip on the boots, hit the second elevator, down to floor 72. The doors opened to what looked like a normal office space. There was a young woman sitting at the receptionist’s desk. She looked up when I walked in and smiled. A buzzer sounded and she gestured to the door behind her, “Right through there, Miss Quinn.” 

I snickered, practically skipping past her, “Honey, call me Harley.” 

I pushed open the door, mallet over my shoulder, and found about twenty guys milling around, chatting. They all hushed, turning to look at me as I walked in. “Hiya, boys. … Harley Quinn, nice to meetcha.” 

_Oh, they will do quite nicely._ _ We can just stay here, right? Oh, we could have soooo much fun just staying right here. _

“J said you wanted some company.” A massive black man stepped forward, long dreads hanging from his head. My mind conjured images of the pornos J had had playing back in the Playroom. 

I grinned up at him salaciously. “I got some plans for today. … Maybe when they’re done we can have some _real_ fun.” 

He smirked and glanced behind him to the rest of the men. “J says you’re in charge. Whatever you say goes.” 

“Well, boys… we’re going shopping.” 

“Shoppin’?” I heard muttered from the group. I spun the mallet in my hands and grinned wickedly at them. 

“More like stealin’. You loaded up or are we goin’ to the Toybox first?” 

The man who’d stepped forward gestured to the offices, “Everything we need in there.” 

I let my gaze roam over the men, locking eyes with each in turn. “I need at least a dozen of ya. But you’re all welcome to come along.” 

They nodded and dispersed into the varying rooms to load up on guns. All but the black man. He walked up and held out a hand, “Name’s Frankie.” I shook his hand as he continued. “What kind of trouble can we expect?” 

I smiled wide, “Only the best. … Ya know, I like you, Frankie.” 

He half-smiled at me. 

“You got my mama’s name.” 

He laughed then, but not unkindly. There was mirth to his tone. “Well, thank you, Harley. … I think?” 

“Oh, it’s definitely a compliment. Mama was an angel.” He grinned widely and nodded before moving into one of the offices. 

Frankie got everyone ready. He was clearly the one usually in charge of this band of men. Then he led us to a different elevator on the other side of the floor. It went down to the garage, where they all piled into three large black vans. 

Frankie got behind the wheel of that little red thing Jonny and I had taken to the Toybox – a 2014 Chevy Corvette Stingray Convertible – and I hopped over the passenger side door. I perched on the top of the headrest and pointed to the exit with the mallet. “Tally ho!!” 

We led the line of cars up onto the streets and drove straight to Gotham’s version of Rodeo Drive. While we sped through the streets, I pulled out a red permanent marker and drew smiley faces with x’s for eyes on either circular side of the mallet. Frankie parked and I hopped onto the sidewalk, walking straight into the closest shoe store. A bell chimed when I crossed the threshold and a woman stood from straightening a display. 

“Can I help-“ She faltered when she turned and saw me. 

I grinned, “Hi.” 

“I think you’re in the wrong place, dear.” 

“Nope.” I stepped further inside, the mallet swinging back and forth in my hand. 

I could see the gears turning in her mind as she stepped away from me. The door chimed again and Frankie entered the store. The woman’s eyes widened to the size of saucers when he flicked the lock and turned the OPEN sign around. 

“I’m calling the police.” She rushed to the counter but Dil and Mick stepped out from the back room and grabbed her. Her shriek made me giggle. 

“Nope. Wrong again.” I looked at Frankie, “Tell them I want every style in a size 7.” 

He went into the back to talk to the rest of the guys while I ordered Dil to sit her down behind the counter. They shoved her to the floor and let me step in front of them, then pulled guns from their holsters, one in each hand. I squatted in front of the woman and tilted my head. 

“That wasn’t very smart, lady.” 

“Please don’t hurt me.” 

“See, I’m not ready for the cops to be on my tail. I got a few more stops to make, ya know?” 

“I won’t call them. I won’t say anything!” 

I scowled, “Now I know you’re lyin’. I don’t like liars, lady.” 

Her eyes flooded with tears, body trembling in fear. “I swear. I won’t say a word. _Please._ ” 

I tipped my head to look up at Mick, “What do you think, Mickie-boy?” 

He rolled his shoulder and eyed the woman appraisingly. “Whoever owns this place is gonna find out about the theft. You know it’s gonna come right back to her.” 

“And these security cameras.” Dil pointed around the ceiling. 

“They’re right, ya know.” I looked back at the young woman. 

“I can show you where they store the tapes! Take them! No one will ever know!” 

I chuckled, “Well that’s not gonna work.” My legs extended as I stood, looking down on her. “This entire city is gonna know, sweetie. I’m gonna make sure of it.” 

“But you said-“ 

“I said no cops _yet_. … And I just don’t trust that you’re not gonna call ‘em soon as we leave.” 

“I promise, I _swear_ -“ 

I held an open palm over my shoulder and one of the boys placed his gun into it. “Here’s the thing…” I pointed the gun at her, my finger curled around the trigger. “I don’t believe you.” 

“ _NO!_ ” 

_BAM_. The gun jumped, her forehead exploded, and I cackled madly. Frankie came out of the backroom and stared down at the body. “We’re almost done.” 

“Good. Leave some guys to finish up. The rest of us are going to stop number 2.” I handed the gun back to Dil and walked out from behind the counter. Then I looked up at one of the security cameras, winked, and blew a kiss at the lens. ~~Come find me, fuckers. Let’s make this a good one.~~

We left through the back so the storefront remained locked. Instead of getting back in the vans, we just walked down to the back door of a designer clothing store and busted inside. It was quiet, dark. But voices floated from the storefront. I moved through the racks and boxes to peer into the open space. A few employees. More customers than I would have expected so early. I looked over the guys and gestured to Lu for his weapon. He handed it over without second thought. 

I stepped back and nodded my head towards the door. Frankie led the boys out into the bright lights and a woman shrieked. I followed, the M60 pointed upward. 

“Alright, ladies and germs.” I squeezed the trigger, bullet after bullet embedding into the ceiling. Someone screamed. “This store is closed to the public for a private shopping experience. Everybody out!” 

The people ran for the exits as I fired again, eyes dancing. Once everyone was out the boys locked the doors and I started pulling out whatever caught my eye. I tried on a few things over the bodysuit, prancing around the store. No more than ten minutes passed before sirens were screaming outside. I ignored them and continued my shopping, selecting an entire wardrobe. 

Someone shouted over a bullhorn. “We have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!” 

My eyes rolled and I continued to ignore them. After fifteen to twenty minutes I heard Frankie yelling from the front of the shop. “Harley, they’re makin’ a move!” 

“Then take care of ‘em!” 

Glass shattered. The sound of automatic gunfire filled the air and I picked up a soft pink mini dress. Death, destruction, cute clothes … what a way to finish out a morning! 

By the time the gunfight slowed I was nearly done. The store littered with spent casings, cloudy with gunsmoke. Frankie approached, looking around the mess. “Al says there’s two big police vans out back.” 

I nodded, holding a black lace teddy to my body. “Tell him to wait ten minutes and then take care of them.” 

“You bet.” He tapped a message on the screen of his cell. 

“You two.” I pointed at the closest two guys, and then at the pile of clothing I had gathered. “Pack all this up.” 

They nodded and went behind the counter for an armful of bags. I loitered in the lingerie area, grabbing a ton more than I intended. Then a massive explosion rocked behind the store. 

“That’s our cue, fellas!” I called out. “Haul ass!” 

We rushed through the back room and outside to see both vans on their sides, giant holes of twisted, charring metal burning away. I looked over and saw Al lowering the RPG-7 and grinned. Then I looked at the guys. “Frankie, pull the car around.” 

He nodded and rushed through an alleyway toward the street and where we’d parked. I gestured to some of the guys and then the three black vans just down the way. “You six, take all this shit back to the penthouse. Tell one of the housekeepers to organize the second walk-in. J’s got too much for us to share his. I want it all put away by the time I get back.” 

Dil and Lu broke off with four others, the six of them loading up the bags before running to the van at the end and piling inside. Frankie squealed around the corner and sped to meet us. 

“As for the rest of you.” The car stopped on a dime next to me. “We’re goin’ to DeBure’s.” 

“Now _that’s_ what I’m talking about.” Terry grinned. 

More sirens approached and I ran around the car to hop over the door. The rest of the guys rushed for the other two vans and we were peeling out in seconds. Two streets down a police car swung behind us, quickly joined by two more. 

Frankie took a long circuitous route to the Diamond Exchange, where DeBure’s – the most expensive jeweler in town – sat nestled in the heart of it. We just barely all got inside before the police swarmed. 

“All employees, out front!” I barked over the shrieking customers. The boys rounded everyone into a group in the center of the store. I spun the mallet in my hands as I walked around the crowd, finally stopping in front of a mid-twenties blond man with a name tag pinned to his shirt. “Is there anyone else here?” 

He shook his head and I spun, slamming the mallet through the glass top of one of the cases. An alarm sounded immediately, ringing loud. “Take it all, boys!” 

My men spread throughout the store, smashing all the cases and grabbing fistfuls of jewelry. More sirens screamed outside and I put the mallet on my shoulder. I watched the terrified group with a smile. I didn’t notice the man I’d talked to looking time and again at the door to the back. But Frankie did. He saw what I didn’t. 

He launched himself at me, screaming, “HARLEY!” 

Then he collided into me, knocking me flat on the ground, his body covering mine just as a gunshot exploded. I saw Jimmy whirl, gun raised, and he fired two shots at the doorway. I tried to shift under Frankie and even though he kept me covered, I was able to glimpse a security guard falling to the ground. Three police officers entered through the same door and my boys jumped into action, shooting until their bodies fell over the guard’s. 

Frankie rolled off me once it was clear no one else would be coming through the door and I leapt to my feet, enraged eyes turning on the blond man. “You lied to me.” 

“I didn’t – I just – he was-“ 

I grabbed the man, pulling him so close I could smell the coffee on his breath. With my eyes locked onto his, I spoke to my boys. “Kill them all.” 

The man’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping. “No, please-“ 

“I don’t like liars.” I shook my head when Ken raised his pistol to the man’s temple. “Oh, no. He’s gonna watch.” 

I spun the man around and used the mallet’s handle to press against his throat, his back against my front. He wept when the shooting started again. “I was gonna let you live. Let you all live. This? … This is _your_ fault.” 

One by one the bodies dropped, their blood intermingling on the floor. I laughed at the carnage. When the last person fell, I pulled the wood harder against his throat. “You should have told me the truth.” 

He blubbered as I threw him to the ground. I didn’t give him the chance to beg for his life. I just raised the mallet over my head and brought it smashing down on his temple. Then again. And again. Until his skull cracked and brain matter splattered under the force of the mallet. When I was done, I turned to face my men. They were staring, amazed at my vehemence. 

“Al, tell me you brought the rocket launcher.” 

He nodded, going over the corner he had propped it up in. I followed, peering out at the many cop cars that lined the street. “Time to go home, boys.” 

I walked out the door, the mallet hanging by my side dripping blood and brains. Then I smiled wide as a clown and waved cheerily at the officers. “All of you for little ole Harley Quinn?” 

“Put your hands up!” Yelled a voice through a megaphone. 

I cupped my hand around my ear, leaning forward. “What was that? You need a man’s cup? I don’t have any jockstraps, sorry.” 

Al stepped out of the store, RPG-7 on his shoulder. The cops started shouting, running. I laughed when the explosion rocked the street, the heat of it burning on my skin. Then I led the guys to the vans and hopped into the Stingray. Frankie managed to squeeze half on the sidewalk and drove past the fire and screaming police. The vans followed, scraping a couple cars as they passed. 

We led the police on a wild goose chase through Gotham. The vans eventually separated, a few cop cars peeling off to follow each one in turn. Frankie careened around corners and down alleys. There was only one car left following us when we passed the abandoned building atop the Toybox. He took a few more sharp curves and turned down another alleyway. But this one had a massive brick wall at the end of it. 

“Frankie…” 

He sped up and I reached out to smack his arm, “FRANKIE!” 

He pulled out his cell and swiped on the screen before pressing his thumb on an app icon. The street in front of the wall broke and lowered into a ramp. We sped down the ramp onto another underground road and he tapped the icon again, the ramp raising to become regular street once more. Then he finally slowed to a normal speed and looked at me with a grin. 

“J didn’t tell you about this, huh?” 

I scowled. “It looks like there’s a lot my Puddin’ doesn’t tell me about.” 

Frankie laughed and drove through the underground tunnel. Before long we were on another ramp up and the wall at the top slid to the side. I blinked at the drastic change in light as we pulled into J’s garage. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? A secret entrance?!” 

Frankie laughed again and parked, pulling the key from the ignition. “It’s come in handy more than once.” 

The wall was just sliding closed when I jumped out of the car. I noticed the vans were back and followed Frankie to the second elevator, which was disguised as part of the wall. He tapped on his cell and the doors opened. Back we went to floor 72. 

The guys were putting away all their guns when we walked into the offices. The loot from the jewelry heist was spilling out of bags on the massive conference table. I turned to Frankie. “The gold is mine. Everything else you and the boys can split.” 

He grinned, “Thanks, Harley.” 

“I’ll send Ana or Marie down to pick it up when ya got everything sorted, yeah?” 

He nodded, gesturing with his phone. “I’ll text you when it’s ready.” 

Then I walked through the main door and past the receptionist, who was busily typing on her computer. “Hello again, Miss Quinn.” 

“You know if Jonny and Mistah J are back yet?” 

She glanced at her watch. “You just beat them. They’re due back in half an hour.” 

“You, like, Mistah J’s secretary or somethin’?” 

She chuckled, “Something like that. I’m more here for show. Keep the busybodies out of things they don’t need to know about.” 

I pursed my lips before nodding. Then I went to the elevator and pressed the button on the wall. It arrived and I walked in, waving to the woman as the doors closed. Once up in the penthouse I went to the second largest bedroom and started for the walk-in closet. Ana walked out, holding an empty hanger. 

“Mrs. Harley!” She jumped, the hanger falling from her fingers. Then her eyes widened in fear. “I no done yet.” 

My hand waved dismissively, “It’s fine, Ana.” 

“They tell me you say-“ 

“And now I’m saying it’s fine.” 

She stared at me, unmoving. It was irritating. I frowned, “Just … just finish up, will ya? I’ll be back later.” 

I left the bedroom and went to sit in front of the TV with my journal. _Damn woman ruining my mood._


	28. Chapter 28

An hour later I was organizing necklaces in my closet when I heard J’s laughter drifting through the doorway. I dropped what I was holding and rushed out to find him. He was in the kitchen with Jonny and Frankie, holding a crystal glass of grape soda when I walked in. Six eyes turned to me and I grinned. “Hi, boys.” 

“You had quite the day, I hear.” J put the glass on the counter and opened his arms. I ran over and jumped into them, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him. 

“I missed you, Puddin’.” 

“Me too, baby.” He set me on my feet and picked up his cup, taking a long swig. 

“So what did you do today?” 

His eyes glittered. “Oh, I’m gonna show ya.” 

“Yeah?” I smirked up at him. “When?” 

“Soon.” 

My mind flashed back to his plans for revenge and I giggled. There were quite the number of them. _Which one, which one, which one will it be_ sang in my head. 

“You gonna need us tonight, boss?” 

“The more, the merrier, Frankie.” J looked at the man with a smile. “If any of your crew want in, tell them to carry extra. The forecast calls for a high chance of caped interference.” 

Jonny frowned, but said nothing. Frankie nodded and left the room. I looked to J and he gestured toward the dining room, “Dinner.” 

That’s when I realized how hungry I was. As we ate together, I told him I wanted Frankie to be my Jonny. 

J chuckled, “You like him that much?” 

“He saved my ass today. Nearly got my head blown off cuz some piece a shit lied ta me. If it weren’t for Frankie tackling me, I wouldn’ta made it outta DeBure’s.” 

He frowned, “Frankie didn’t tell me that part.” 

“I killed them all. I was gonna let ‘em go, too.” 

“No matter. You want Frankie, he’s yours.” 

I grinned. “Thanks, Puddin’.” 

We finished eating and J told me to wait by the piano while he got ready for our big night. I was surprised to see a young man sitting at the white grand piano, playing a melody I’d never heard before. He smiled and introduced himself as Elliot, but never stopped the flourishing of his fingers. 

I was standing at the window, looking out over the twinkling lights of Gotham at night, when J’s voice sounded behind me. “Dance with me.” 

I spun, startled. And then I saw him. My mouth dropped open, heart skipping a beat. I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was wearing a full tuxedo with tails, a purple and gold cane in one hand. He has never looked better. _What I wouldn’t give to rip that offa him right now._

My voice was low and sultry when I murmured, “Hubba, hubba.” 

He grinned, crossing the room to take my hand. The cane he left propped against one of the windows and then I was in his arms, spinning around the room. It wasn’t a waltz but something uniquely our own. I felt like I was dancing among the stars, clouds beneath our feet. The way he looked at me while we moved about the floor … I never seen love like that before. I know I was staring in his eyes with devotion, my heart so overflowing with love for him that I thought it would explode. 

We danced for a while, enthralled with each other. He finished by dipping me upside down and the music drew to a sweet finale. As he pulled me upright, he brushed a white-gloved thumb across my cheek. “It’s your Gotham debut, honey.” 

I grinned. “Let’s have some fun.” 

He pulled out his phone and sent out a mass text. Jonny was waiting for us down in the garage. He held open the rear door of a purple Lamborghini and I climbed in. J walked around to the passenger side and got in the front. I noticed something as Jonny slid into his seat. 

“Hey, my mallet!” I picked it up off the floor. “Who cleaned it?” 

“I think it was Iggy.” Jonny started the car and drove to the secret entrance. _I don’t know that one…_

The wall popped inward and slid to the side, and we were in the underground tunnel. I bounced my head to the beat of the music playing through the speakers and did that sort of shimmy-wiggle car dance. When the chorus started I threw my arms in the air and belted out the lyrics at the top of my lungs. 

J jumped and growled, “ _Har-ley!_ ” 

He turned in his seat, searing me with irritated stormy eyes. My lips pinched closed and I dropped my hands into my lap. “Sorry, Puddin’.” 

We drove for a short while before surfacing. “This ain’t the alley. … How many fucking secret entrances you got stashed around Gotham?” 

J snickered. “You want a map, baby?” 

I huffed. “Yeah, I think I do.” 

He just laughed. Jonny drove a little while longer before finally pulling into Gotham Water Treatment. I knew instantly what we were doing there and giggled, slowly growing to full-blown laughter. The car stopped in front of a fleet of white work vans and we got out. I stepped over to J, hooking my arm around his. 

“Is it time for payback, Puddin’?” 

“You know it, Pumpkin.” 

Jonny led us inside, where dozens of men lined the hallways. All the electronic door locks were green, having been beeped through, one man stationed at each door to keep it open. It was like following a trail of breadcrumbs to the room where jackhammers ate away at the floor. When they were through, other men stepped forward and shoveled away debris from the massive pipeline underneath. Then others moved in with blowtorches and cut away a large section off the top, exposing the lifeline of the city. This was the last stop before the water flowed through smaller pipes and reached the taps of every Gotham citizen. 

Through the door came a half dozen guys with dollies carting bright yellow barrels. They approached the hole in the floor and arranged the barrels around it. We crossed to the group around the hole, J spinning his cane as he walked, and I saw that the barrels were stamped _Ace Chemicals_. I looked at Jonny and he confirmed my suspicions. “We were already there that night, getting these. That’s why I got to you guys so quickly.” 

J popped off the basketball-sized rubber seal and tossed it aside. The stench that effused from the yellow-green liquid inside made my eyes water. 

“What is that stuff?” 

“Poison,” J said simply and he knocked over the barrel, its contents gurgling into the water supply. He laughed maniacally and delicious shivers ran down my spine. 

“I know _that_. I just meant what specifically.” 

“Who gives a shit?” _Good point_. 

Something whistled as it flew past and lodged into the man standing next to J. He dropped to the ground, a batarang sticking out of his chest. J tossed his head back and laughed uproariously. “We’ve got a bat in the belfry!” 

I spun, lifting my eyes in search of him. Gunfire rang out all around me and J was grabbing my hand, yanking me to the side of the room. The muzzles of the firing guns moved like a flock of birds as the men tracked their foes. The “heroes” dropped in the center of the group, two dark flashes that disappeared amidst the bodies. A few of J’s men continued to shoot as they’d dropped, catching their own in the crossfire. 

“Idiots,” I muttered. The sounds of punches landed and the grunts of fighting men converged. I watched the fray, absorbed, trying to catch a glimpse of the men I despised. Then a crashing sounded and my head snapped to the barrels, where J had just pushed over another one. I rushed over to him and gripped the seal on the third, yanking it off. And then I pushed, throwing my body weight against the barrel. _These fuckers are a lot heavier than they look_. 

I turned and put my back against it, planting my feet firmly and using my legs to press backwards. I heard the clang of another barrel tipping over and strained harder. Finally, it started to tip but I couldn’t catch myself in time. It fell and I tumbled over it, shrieking. Someone grabbed onto my elbow, their forearm pressed to mine, and I hung over the rushing water for a half a second before I was pulled back. Jonny placed his hand on my shoulder, making sure I was steady on my feet before letting go. 

“You ok?” 

“Robin!” Yelled a deep voice from the middle of the fighting men. 

“On it!” Yelled another voice and a man in a dark red and black suit vaulted over the heads of our boys in our direction, cape flying behind him 

“Help J!” I ordered Jonny and picked up my mallet, swinging back like it was a baseball bat as I rushed forward. 

Robin landed a few feet in front of me and I swung with all my might, smashing it into his shoulder. He was taller than I thought he was gonna be. I was aiming for his head. He stumbled sideways and fell to the floor but flipped back onto his feet in seconds. The eyes in the black mask stared quizzically as he spun the silver staff in his hands in circles around his body. “Who’re you?” 

I giggled and raised the mallet over my head. I aimed for his head again, but the staff knocked it and my momentum aside and I stumbled. He rushed past and grabbed one of the barrels, pulling on the rim until he had it standing. I growled and ran at him, swinging my weapon through dead air when he ducked. He spun to face me, whipping the staff like a bat and I backflipped. It jabbed at my chest when I righted but I bent backward out of the way. Back and forth we went, trading near blows. Then I caught one in the stomach and grunted, falling to the ground. Robin grabbed onto another barrel and yanked it upright. 

“Harley!” J’s voice, calling from the side of the room. 

I snarled as I looked up at the Boy Wonder and jumped to my feet. I ran at him, launching myself onto his back and yanking the handle of my mallet against his throat. He reared back, dropping the staff and grabbing at me but I hung from the mallet, my toes just barely brushing the ground. I pulled as hard as I could and heard a satisfying gurgle. 

He gripped my wrists and lifted me off of him, throwing me over his head. I hit the wall upside down and slid down to land on my head. I laughed as I got to my feet, spinning the mallet in a circle in front of me. “Let’s go, birdie.” 

I rushed forward at him, caught completely off my feet by someone grabbing around my midsection and hauling ass sideways. I shrieked in rage and elbowed Frankie in the face before I realized it was him. “What are you doin’?!” 

He didn’t answer and ran out of the room into a different hallway than the one through which we’d entered. Frankie powered through the hallways until we were outside in a dark alleyway. J was leaning against the building but Jonny was nowhere to be seen. I was finally placed on my feet and I smacked him. 

“What’d ya do that for? I was havin’ fun.” 

“Batman was nearly finished with those guys. You really wanna go two on one with the Bat and his sidekick?” 

I growled but turned away, looking at J. “They’re gonna stop the poison.” 

“I made my point.” He grinned, sweeping a hand at the lights that glimmered, a million lives in a million windows. “The loss of life will be catastrophic.” 

I sneered. “Not enough.” 

J laughed. “My little monster.” 

“After everything they did to you in the name of ‘saving the city,’ you’re damn right.” I snarled. 

“Where’s Jonny?” Frankie moved the gun hanging on his back to his front, fingering the trigger as he looked around the alley. 

“Getting the car.” 

~~_Kill them all, the worthless sacks of flesh in this city_ _._ ~~

If the Bat can lose control, so can we hahaha! 

_He fights to protect these people; the perfect payback is slaughtering every last one._

Frankie started down the alley and I moved to follow, then stopped and turned around to face J. “This is what you been workin’ on since we left Arkham?” 

“I’ve been planning this for months.” He grinned. 

“Ya shoulda gotten more barrels.” 

His smile widened as he approached me, placing one palm on my cheek. “Your unquenchable thirst for death and destruction only makes me love you more.” 

I threw my arms around his neck, dropping the mallet in the process, and pressed my lips to his passionately. It was the first time he’d said he loved me and I was filled with delight at his confession. He turned, walking me backward until I was pinned against the wall and slid his hand down from my face to curl around my throat. I moaned at his forceful touch, arousal flooding between my lower lips. 

A distinct flapping sounded then and J pulled away, whirling. A dark figure landed a short distance away, slowly rising to his feet, and my eyes laid on the Dark Knight for the first time. I scowled, moving away from the wall to pick up my weapon. 

“You won’t get away with this, Joker.” 

He laughed, “I already have, Batman. There’s no antidote.” 

“Not yet.” 

I cackled. “You think you can make one in time? … One little sip and they’re dead.” 

The Bat’s eyes turned to me, recognition flashing in them. “It can’t be … Dr. Quinzel?” 

I laughed harder, the mallet spinning in my hands. “Sorry, Bats. She’s dead.” My grin was wicked as I arched my brows and lifted my hands by my shoulders. “I’m Harley Quinn.” 

He looked back at J with fury in his eyes. “What did you do?” 

Joker doubled over in laughter and I couldn’t help but giggle. “My Puddin’ gave me an opportunity. And I just … jumped.” 

Batman scowled and rushed at J. I swung my mallet, barely catching him below one pointed ear on his cowl, and he stumbled against the wall. He whirled and ran at me, grabbing my upper arms and slamming me against the opposite wall. The pain of it washed through me, eliciting another giggle. 

“Ooo, you know I love it rough, Batsy.” 

He frowned, shaking me a little. “I can help you, Doctor.” 

“Like you helped _him_ ?” I snarled. “Like you _damaged him_?!” 

I smacked the mallet into his side and he released one arm to grab it and toss it down the alley. The arm he’d released whipped upward and I punched him square across the jaw. I heard a gun cock and he turned, revealing J behind him with one arm outstretched, the muzzle of his Colt pointed at the “hero’s” head. 

“ _Let. Her. Go._ ” 

Bullets rang from down the alley, Frankie’s voice yelling incoherently. I ripped my other arm from the Bat’s grip and rushed to pick up my mallet. Headlights swung behind Frankie, his shadow stretching toward us. A second gun started firing, Jonny leaning out the window as he drove past Frankie in our direction. 

Batman pulled some kind of gun from his belt, aiming nearly straight up. A grapple shot from the end, hooking onto something, and he flew upwards. I growled, my eyes following him, wishing I had my own gun. Jonny stopped a few yards away, the headlights illuminating us. I heard Frankie’s heavy footsteps running down the alley. 

“Time to go, honey.” J gripped my wrist, pulling me behind him as he made for the car. I opened the rear door as he got in the front, leaving it open for Frankie. He got in a few seconds later. 

Tires squealed as Jonny slammed on the gas, the rear wheels drifting slightly before the vehicle shot forward. He careened down the alley, spinning the wheel at the end to take the corner hard. We sped around the city, Frankie continuously turning to look behind us. 

“What’re you looking for?” 

“The Batmobile.” He answered. 

“The Batmobile, the Jokermobile.” I leaned forward, pouting at J, “When do I get a Quinnmobile?” 

He chuckled. “You can have any of my cars.” 

“But I want _my own_.” 

He turned, eyeing me with a grin. “Then you shall have one.” 

A huge smile overtook my features and bounced excitedly in my seat. “Yay!” 

The Bat and Bird never showed on our tail, but Jonny still took a secret entrance back to the high rise. When we got back to the penthouse, J turned the TV to the local news station. They were reporting on my crime spree, a picture of me blowing a kiss in the upper corner of the screen. I squealed excitedly and jumped up and down on the couch. 

“I never been on TV before!” 

J frowned slightly at my antics, “Harley, sit down.” 

I jumped one last time, landing on my ass and wiggling until I was comfortable. 

“Just who is Harley Quinn, and what does her arrival mean for Gotham?” said the female news anchor. 

“Police are questioning if she has any connection to the established criminals in this city, or if she is a newcomer in her own right. If you have any information on this woman or her string of robberies today, contact the Gotham PD by calling the number on the bottom of your screen.” The male anchor picked up his stack of papers and tapped them into a neat pile. 

“Or just wait a few hours and see who she’s with.” J cracked. 

We watched the news until a Breaking Report graphic flashed on the screen. The normally serious eyes of the reporters turned grave and solemn. “Do not drink the water! We have just been informed that there is poison in the water supply. Emergency Departments across the city are flooding with the sick. Thus far, no antidote has been discovered, and the total dead have already reached over 200.” 

“Commissioner Gordon has informed us that Batman has taken a sample of the poisoned water to Gotham S.T.A.R. Labs in the hopes that an antidote can be developed. We will update you as new information comes to light.” 

I bounced in my seat, giggling madly. J pulled a joint from his pocket and lit it with his zippo, taking a long drag before holding it my direction. I plucked it from his fingers and sucked on the end, inhaling the smoke deeply into my lungs. We smoked for a long while, watching the death toll rise as minutes passed. Eventually, we went to bed, but not before the number of fatalities broke one thousand.


	29. Chapter 29

Total dead: 12,687. Turns out Batman sent Boy Wonder to bleed the drinking water into the river separating Gotham from Metropolis, which is why he wasn’t in the alley. Also, why the final death toll was so damn low. I was more mad about it than J was. He was so unconcerned over breakfast that I got even more frustrated. 

“Dammit, why don’t you care that they got in the way _again_?!” 

“Because my plans aren’t over yet.” He grinned at me. “You think my revenge could take place in one night?” 

A slow smirk spread over my face. “Tell me.” 

He chuckled, “It will be more fun to show you.” 

“Well, what are we going to do today?” 

“Today we stay home.” 

I pouted and he chuckled again. “It’s a very special day, Harley. … I’m gonna mark you.” 

I thought of the bruises he’d left on my neck after the first time we’d fucked, the hickies he’d left all over my body, and furrowed my brows in confusion. “You’ve done that before …” 

He just grinned and shook his head. When we were done eating, he brought me to the master bathroom and the filled Jacuzzi tub, climbing inside. I joined him, the steaming bubbly liquid reminding me of the vats that had created us. He pulled me to him, his arms wrapping around my back as he kissed me. I buried my fingers in his hair, my tongue swirling against his. His hair bunched in my hands and I pulled against the roots, eliciting a wonderful groan from him. He responded by winding my long strands around one fist and yanking. My lips separated from his as my head bent backward, a grunt breaking through them. His mouth was on my neck then, lips moving against the most tender areas and making me moan. Metal teeth grazed my skin and I shuddered. 

“Daddy’s been thinking about cutting you again.” 

“Mmmmm. Give me pain, Puddin’, I wanna cum.” 

“I want to, Harley girl. So badly.” He pulled harder on my hair and I gasped. “I think about hitting you so hard it leaves bruises because every one of them is proof of our love. I want my knife to slice your flesh so we can lick it clean while your cunt spasms with glee.” 

I groaned, lifting my head to look him in the eyes and shifted so my knees were either side of his legs. I reached between us and pumped his swollen member a few times before guiding it to my opening. He continued, “I want you to get fucked by groups of men, me listening to you screaming for their cum, my smoldering eyes branding your very soul.” I moaned again, my hips bucking as I slid my hungry cunt up and down his shaft. _A gangbang all to myself? Yes, please._

“I want you to be able to taste fresh pussy and laugh with me as we discard her because she doesn’t matter. None of them matter but me and you, my hands around your neck, cumming as I’m buried deep in your wonderful ass. You cumming so hard you can’t even make any coherent sounds, just blissful grunts of pleasure and desire. … With me, all this can be yours, baby girl.” 

“Oh god, _yes_ , Daddy. I can’t wait to feel your blades on my skin and your cock in my ass. Anything you ask of me is yours as long as you keep fucking me.” 

“That’s my girl.” His teeth latched onto my neck and I cried out in bliss, my hips bouncing faster. A few moments later he pulled me up and off of him, laughing at my whining whimper. “Turn around, Pumpkin.” 

Bubbles swirled around me as he helped me spin, and then he yanked me close and shoved himself inside me again. He pinned my arms behind me, holding me so my back arched away from him. It felt so damn good. And then shoved me forward, continuing to thrust as my head went under the water. I never would have thought that a hot tub would be so loud below the water’s surface. I don’t know how long he held me under, but my lungs hadn’t even started to burn before he pulled me upright. I sucked in fresh air as he hissed in my ear, “ _Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck_.” 

Then I was back in the water. The way he gripped my arms so tight, the scalding heat on my face, his powerful assault on my cunt, the lack of oxygen in a completely new way, it all added up to an absolutely incredible feeling. Eventually, my body reflexively started to fight for air and that’s when he pulled me up. The slamming of oxygen into my lungs brought that familiar release, “ _Oh my GOD_!” 

He was more forceful when he shoved me under this time. And I had a wicked thought. I waited a while; then I mimicked the way my body had jerked just a few minutes ago. I knew he would hold me under longer. He was always increasing, adding more. I struggled a bit more and then I slowly relaxed my muscles until it seemed I went fully limp. He didn’t notice at first. My lungs started burning horrifically and it was a fight to keep myself completely relaxed. 

J yanked me upright. The fear in his voice was palpable, “ _Harley_!” 

I couldn’t help it. I started laughing hysterically. He snarled in a rage and fisted a hand in my hair. Then he slammed me down so far my face touched my legs. And he held me there until I blacked out. 

The next thing I knew I was lying on my back on the cold marble floor, coughing water out of my lungs, J hovering over me and clearly having been doing CPR. My chest hurt from the compressions. Immediately after I gasped heavily, I saw stars as he cracked my cheek. He grabbed my face and pulled me up, glaring into my eyes with a dark fury, “Don’t you _ever_ do that again.” 

He shoved me back to the floor and turned off the tub before draining it, “Get in the shower. Clean up.” And then he left. 

I washed and scrubbed and took my sweet ass time. I will admit that I was pouting about being killed just for playing. _Can I actually say I died?_ _Who cares, Daddy felt AWESOME!_ ~~_Let’s die again. I_ _wanna_ _do it again._ ~~

Still sulking, I went to my closet and looked through the walk-in until I found the frumpiest things I could. A sky-blue zip-up hoodie and matching sweatpants. It would have been better if they were baggy, but I’d chosen something that hugged my frame at the designer store. I pulled my hair back into a bun, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to hold him off much longer. Finally, I wandered out of the second bedroom and past his office before checking the dining room and kitchen. Then the TV room and the one with the piano before the other bathrooms. I kept wandering until I found the third bedroom again. I hadn’t been in there since the first time I looked around the Penthouse. 

“There she is,” he greeted me as he had when I was put back on his case in the asylum. _What, so all is forgiven? Maybe for you, but you’re not the one who died, are you?_

I hmphed and noticed the other guy in the room, sitting next to what looked like a massage chair and a roller table littered with small bottles of varying colored liquids. I waved my hand at the situation, “What is all this?” 

“This is Tommy. Now, Pumpkin, who told ya you could get dressed?” his teasing reproach was punctuated by that _ha ha haaa_ I love. But I was still mad. He took my wrist and pulled me over to the table. “Strip.” 

“I don’t have anything on underneath.” I crossed my arms, jaw set defiantly. 

“Good. Take it off.” 

“Why?” 

“ _Why_?” his arched brow told me he knew I was sassing him. “Because Daddy told you to.” 

My arms stayed crossed, eyes narrowing slightly. He grabbed me by the neck and pulled me close, taking my mouth in the way he knew would make my cunt throb before licking my lips. “I _told_ you I was going to mark you, Pumpkin. Tommy’s my artist.” 

“Hmph.” 

The hand that had held my throat now gave three moderately hard pats to my cheek, “Don’t be a brat, little girl.” 

“I think you would be a little pissy if you’d just died.” 

He laughed. Then viciously shoved his fingers up between my scalp and bun, curling them so tightly the pain caused my eyes to tear up and juices to drip down my thigh. He pulled me close and growled in my ear, “Pumpkin, do you really think that’s the last time I’m gonna kill you?” 

~~ **_YES! Again, again, again!_ ** ~~

I came. All was instantly forgiven because I immediately wanted it again. I swore to live for him. I swore to die for him. I would do it again and again and again and again for all eternity. 

I had to hold onto him to keep from falling as my legs turned to jelly. He chuckled, “That’s my good girl.” Then shook my head side to side using the fingers still curled painfully against my scalp and snarled, “Get this shit out of your hair. It makes ya look like the bitch that died to bring you to me.” 

I obeyed. Of course, I obeyed. As soon as he withdrew his hand, I unwound the bun and shook out my long locks. “There’s my girl. So much better, isn’t it?” When I nodded, he mockingly nodded along with me, “Yeah. … You better do as Daddy said and take those clothes off, little girl.” 

His grin as he watched me continue to tremble from orgasmic aftershock while I followed his orders made me feel delicious. “Now lay down on the table. You’re about to get your first tattoos.” 

“Ooo! A tattoo?” I lit up. “I want a dolphin! And a rainbow! And a-“ 

“Shh shh shh shh shh shhhh.” J looked to Tommy, who nodded and got up to go work on his computer for a second. “I’ve already got my plans, baby.” 

He sat down on a stool near my head, pulling out a second roller table from beneath the long one I was laying atop and opened one of the drawers, grabbing his purple and gold tattoo gun and putting it on top. Two tiny cups and a bottle of black tattoo ink came next. Purple nitrile gloves, paper towels, what turned out to be a bottle of foaming soap, and a razor. He slid on the gloves, reminding me of him giving me my “treatment” back at Arkham, and used the foaming soap to wash my jawline. As he used the razor over the area he had just washed, he said, “There are certain _things_ people think when they see who you are on your skin. Judgments they make. And it’s just so very _fun_ to play with their minds. Do I show them what they expect or do I scare them with something far more unpredictable? I want you to experience this because it’s just so … _entertaining_.” 

Tommy came back over with stencils printed on special paper, handed them to J, and started setting up his area. After giving his approval J cut off a portion of one with scissors and gave the sheets back to Tommy. 

“Just one rule before we start, little one. Feel. Every. Second. You’re about to have needles stabbing you thousands of times. Focus on the pain, drink it in, let it course through every cell of your body. But _do not cum_.” 

My questioning whine made him laugh. “You are _not allowed_ to cum, baby girl. If ya do, I’ll be forced to punish you.” 

_How is that supposed ta make me not want to, Daddy?_

I felt Tommy start to rub the soap on the area above my pubic bone and jumped, “What the hell?” 

When I tried to look, J pushed my head back to the left, “One more rule. Don’t. Move.” 

I nodded and he lightly rapped his knuckles against my cheek. “I said _Don’t. Move._ ” 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” 

The next few hours I spent trying desperately to remain perfectly still. The pain was glorious, electric. J finished first and watched Tommy work for a while. He’d taken off his gloves and occasionally leaned down to point out different spots and mutter to his tattoo guy. The last time he pointed, he came back staring at his knuckles. The card suits. He had the spade, the diamond, the club … but no heart. His ring finger was blank. I’d noticed the first time I’d seen them, but hadn’t asked about the missing heart card yet. He went to Tommy’s computer and clicked around a bit. Soon the printer whirred as another stencil came out. 

J came back and went through the washing and shaving process higher up on my cheek. He gloved up before laying the stencil and tattooed the outline carefully. After wiping and cleaning and wiping, he stared and pondered for a moment. Then he switched out needles and began filling it in. 

My skin was deliciously sore by the time they were done, buzzing happily everywhere their ink had been injected. 

“Come and see, Pumpkin.” J gestured to a full-length mirror on the wall behind him. I slid off the table and bounced over to the wall, leaning forward to inspect J’s work first. There was one word written along my jawline – “Rotten” – and a black heart on my cheek. I squealed and clapped my hands together, making J laugh. 

Then I looked down. It was harder to make out the words because of the flowing script, but I noticed the image immediately, “My dolphin and rainbow!!” 

I spun in a circle before going back to the mirror and focusing on the backwards letters, “What’s it say?” 

“Lucky You.” my love came up behind me, sliding his hands around my body to splay across my torso above the fresh tattoo, “Once I saw you with Jonny, and knew it was gonna happen again, I decided anyone who gets to touch you should know just how damned lucky they are.” 

Giggles tripped out of me, “Puddin I love them. They’re perfect!” 

“It would normally take a few weeks for these to heal.” his fingertips caressing over me raised goosebumps on my skin. “A small benefit of Ace Chemicals, minor wounds heal at an alarming rate. They’ll be all set in two days.” 

“And then I can get more?” 

He laughed, “You can have as many as your little heart desires, Pumpkin.” 

“Can I do one?” 

He laughed again, “You wanna learn to tattoo?” 

“Yeah!” How intoxicating it must be – inflicting pain while making beauty. “It looks fun. What now?” 

“Now we wrap these up and let you heal.” 

I pouted, “But why can’t we go out?” 

“Because we’re home tonight. You and me.” 

_You and me._ It was the first time I realized that, other than fucking, we hadn’t really had much alone time together. A night with my king sounded perfect. 

“I wanna drink.” 

“Good. I like getting you drunk. It’s different after. Drinking, I mean. Your body will process the alcohol quicker so you’ll have to drink a lot to really feel it.” 

“Not a problem.” I giggled. I’d never been a huge drinker before, but now I yearned for that extra loss of control. 

It was a truly incredible evening. We drank and ate and smoked and fucked and watched movies. Everything I wanted. It was perfect.


	30. Chapter 30

I woke up after J, probably many hours after. I felt slightly hungover, which sucked, but I knew that all I needed was some greasy breakfast food and I’d be good to go. It was one of those picky hangovers. You know the ones I mean – coffee, water, hair of the dog or other hangover concoctions weren’t gonna work. Nothing but some good ole American grease was gonna cut it. 

Anyways, I went searching the Penthouse for J or Jonny but instead found Frankie hanging out in the kitchen. 

“Mornin’, Harley.” _I love how deep his voice is._

“Mornin’, Frankie. Hey, you know where to get a good egg sandwich? There was this one guy in my neighborhood, he was good, but it wasn’t like _good_ good, ya know? And I was drinkin’ with Mistah J last night so I got this hangover that just sorta poundin’ in that one corner of my brain like It's saying ‘eggs eggs eggs’ over and over.” 

Frankie held up one hand, the grin on his face speaking volumes. “I got you.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah.” 

And then he brought me to Sal’s. An unassuming little bodega that looks like every other little bodega in Gotham, but this one? _This_ one has the _perfect_ egg sandwich. Two fried eggs, American cheese, bacon, this amazing soft, toasted buttered roll, and a dash of hot sauce. Frankie told me he’d tried making it himself at home and “It was shit, Harley. I swear, I followed every damn step and I _still_ had to throw the damn thing out.” 

I cackled as he drove, losing that “eggs” chant with every bite. There’s something magical in that sandwich, I swear, cuz I’ve never recovered from a hangover that quickly. 

“I got a list for you.” 

“What kind of list?” 

I grinned around another bite of the sandwich, chewing before speaking, “A list of playmates for the Toybox.” 

“How many we got?” 

“More than a little. The first two gotta come in first. The last one’s gotta be last. But the rest are as you please” 

Frankie nodded and took the paper from me before slipping it in his pocket. 

“Where we goin?” 

“J’s got a surprise for you.” 

“That does seem to be his M.O.” 

“He’s never been one to tell all, except maybe to Jonny.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Frankie drove me to a studio. Before I got out, he handed me a bag, telling me I would need it. While he parked the car, I headed inside. And when I walked in, I burst into tears. Aerial silks hung from the high ceilings and two trainers stood smiling when I’d entered. _My first true love._ I’d never thought this was something I would get to do again. Inside the bag was gymnastic leotards and I could barely decide which I wanted to wear before finally climbing back into the air. 

I think poor Frankie wound up bored out of his mind because I was in the studio past dusk. I excelled the way I remembered. The silks wrapping around each part of my body like drawing water over my skin. The strength of muscle required and how it feels to fly through the air. Triss couldn’t stop gushing over how quickly I learned everything they were teaching. Jenni said I was born to it. They took me through my paces, stretching me to my absolute limits and I pushed beyond them. _This is living. This is everything I have forgotten I missed._

Following their instructions and surpassing every goal made my body feel like it was glowing. It really was like being alive again. Like finding a part of myself that I’d lost and forgotten I needed. I couldn’t stop.My muscles ached and I was so tired but I just didn’t want to stop. 

“You can come back tomorrow you know.” 

_Daddy!_

“Puddin’!” My happiness couldn’t be contained. I hung upside down, looking up at him and realizing that Frankie and the trainers were gone, “But I’m not done.” 

He laughed, “You’re lucky I didn’t have time-sensitive plans.” 

“Are we doing something tonight?” 

“Back to the Smile and Grin.” 

“Buuuuuuut I’m not done?” 

He dazzled me with his grin, “Show me what you can do.” 

So, I did. I danced through the air, twisting and turning, climbing and falling. I showed him everything I’d remembered from a decade ago, everything I’d learned today, and everything that came to my mind. I crafted a routine as I went, making my body move in ways he hadn’t seen before. I know because the way he watched me was like one enraptured. His eyes followed my every move, taking in my form, and showing a completely new appreciation. As much as the way he was watching me made me feel so incredibly exposed, I never slipped or failed in my movements. It was as if I’d been practicing for the entire decade I’d missed, my body as limber and strong as it was when I was at the height of my gymnastics career, if not more so. I think the chemicals did something to my body and if that’s the case I’m pretty fucking stoked about it. I love the way I can move through the air. 

My feet finally touched the ground and I stood panting from exertion. It was like the second my feet touched the floor all the stress on my body descended at once. The emotional high of what I’d been doing wore off and I was exhausted. 

“Maybe you should go to the club alone.” I tried to stretch out my limbs as I spoke. “That took more out of me than I realized.” 

He still watched me in the same way, as if he was seeing me for the first time. Seeing this new side of me, a passion that he’d re-sparked in his gift to me. _He looks so happy._

“I’ll take you home. Do you want to get changed first?” 

I shook my head, too tired to think about putting clothes on. _Once these come off, I was going straight to bed._ He brought me outside and drove us home in the Jokermobile. I didn’t notice him texting while he drove, but by the time we got back to the Penthouse, the third bedroom had been set up with a massage therapist who worked wonders on my sore muscles. I fell asleep while she worked and never noticed when someone moved me to the bed later. 

I woke up this morning curled in J’s arms. He told me in the shower as he washed me that he wants to watch me at the studio again today. I’m so excited.


	31. Chapter 31

We didn’t stay as long as I did yesterday. He still wanted to go back to the Smile and Grin. So, after spending a good number of hours in my studio we went back to the Penthouse to get ready to go out. I put on the gold dress I’d stolen from the designer store, matching it with gold and red jewelry. Chains, rings, bracelets, one or two cuffs on each upper arm. I did a red smokey eye, loving the way my tattoos looked on my cheek with the makeup. Then I curled my hair and put on a pair of red stilettos. I wasn’t planning on dancing so my shoes could be as pinchy as they wanted. 

He drove us in the Jokermobile again, Jonny and Frankie already waiting in the VIP section. Benny sent over J’s usual glass of amber-colored liquor and a drink he dubbed “The Harley Quinn.” I have no idea what’s in it, but It's blue and the rim has red sugar and there’s two umbrellas. Whatever it is, it’s delicious and Benny is a genius. 

Frankie stood as a sort of “outer guard,” a few feet before the little area where we sat. Jonny sat as the “inner guard.” And there were a number of J’s guys littered around the club. While not exactly a “safe space” for Gotham, the Smile and Grin was as safe for us as the Penthouse. 

“You’ve got someone coming over in a minute.” Jonny said to J, “Servis Charge wants to extend his regards.” 

“You know a guy named service charge?” 

“Servis has been running a crew for me for a long time. Fancies himself a rapper.” J laughed. 

The man that arrived a short while later was definitely not the type you’d expect to be rapping. He looked more like an accountant in a costume. “Good to see you back, J.” 

Servis dropped into the booth with a wide grin, “We been makin’ some good money while you been gone.” 

“You saying I’m bad for business?” 

The fear in his eyes was palpable, “No way, man! I just meant things have been going well.” 

“With me out of the way.” the undercurrent of malice in his tone made me grin. 

“What, no! No, no, no, no, no way. I been workin’ hard for you, J. That’s all I meant. Business has been better with you out again cuz everybody’s scared of steppin’ outta line.” 

J laughed, much to Servis’s relief. He slowly chuckled along, still feeling unsettled and unsure of his standing. 

One hand raked through green hair, smile plastered across alabaster skin, “You’ve always been a good man, Servis.” 

“Heh, heh, ... yeah, boss. All I ever wanted was to do good by you.” 

“So why service charge?” I broke in. J smiled at me, but I could tell that Servis was even more rattled at the fact that a girl in J’s booth was speaking. I’ve known for a while J had a girl on his arm whenever he wanted, but I imagine those girls were meant to keep quiet while in public. 

“What?” 

“It’s not a very good name for a rapper.” 

“The fuck do you know?” There was a flash of anger, residue from years of frustration over the mockery the name had garnered him. 

“I know what sounds stupid.” 

“You sound stupid. Don’t know nothin’ about rappin’, tryin’ ta tell me what ain’t a good rapper name, you don’t know shit.” It sounded like a run-on sentence the way he spoke. 

“I know what bullshit sounds like when it’s streaming from your mouth.” 

“Maybe you should check your own mouth, bitch, cuz that’s where all the shit’s comin’ from.” 

“You get any girls talkin’ like that?” 

That’s when J put on THE smile. The one that makes me weak in the knees and wet in the pants. The one that scares the piss out of anyone else who sees it. 

“She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” 

“Pretty but don’t know when she should shut up.” 

His smile widened, “We like to enjoy ourselves. Don’t we Harley girl?” 

“So much, Puddin’.” 

Servis’s expression shifted. Maybe I wasn’t the kind of girl he expected after all. 

“I think Harley might want you to enjoy her. What do you say, Harley?” 

I let my eyes rake over him. Six-foot, blond hair, light blue eyes. A slight dimple in his chin and a lean, toned body. Then I stood and made my way over to him, sitting prettily in his lap, “I think you and me could have some fun.” 

The confusion on his face was just too sweet. He looked from me to J and back, then swallowed and treated me like any other pretty girl he would come across in a club. “Yeah, baby, I think we could.” 

When I leaned forward and kissed him, my hand burying into his blond locks, I heard J’s breath deepen. He watched as I stood and slipped out of my red thong, leaving it tossed on the floor. His gaze never left when I told Servis it was my turn first and lay down in the booth. I could feel his eyes boring holes into me when Servis leaned down and started licking at my pussy. One digit in his mouth and then inside me, sliding in and out while his tongue worked its magic on my clit. I began to moan, not worried about or caring if anyone heard me. This is J’s club. What he says goes and fuck everyone else. It didn’t take long before I gushed all over Servis’s hand and he sat up expectantly. 

I moved to kneel on the floor in front of him, unzipping his pants and letting him pull them down enough for his cock to spring out. First my hand, to ensure he was fully hard, then I slowly took him in my mouth, sliding as much in as I could. I used my tongue to swipe at the underside of the head as I slowly bobbed my head. 

“Great at what she does, isn’t she?” 

“Fuck, yeah.” I let myself start to bob faster and he groaned. 

“Perfect way to get her to _shut up_ , huh?” 

“Uh, yeah..” 

“Are you _enjoying yourself_ , Charge?” 

“Hell, yeah. ... Ow!” I’d scraped his member with my teeth. 

“Oops! Sorry … I’ll do better.” I took him back in my mouth but this time scraped my teeth harder. 

“Ow! What the hell, bitch? What the fu- oh, shit.” 

I really dragged my teeth when I pulled off him completely, to his whimpering, and saw that J had his Colt pulled on him. 

“What the fuck did you say about the Queen of Gotham?” The edge, the danger to J’s voice was delicious. 

“The what?” I could hear tears in his voice and laughed as I stood. 

“My Harley Quinn. My Queen.” 

“J, I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t and I never would have - “ 

_BANG_

_Bye, bye, service charge. … Such a stupid name._

Frankie’s head popped around the corner, “I’ll, uh … I’ll get a mop.” 

“Let’s get out of here, Pumpkin.” 

“Let’s go, Puddin’.” 

But first, he took the gold watch off of Servis’s body and slid it up my arm, to wear like a cuff. “A badge of honor.” 

“A warning to other idiots not to misbehave.” 

“That’s my girl.” 


	32. Chapter 32

Frankie is a damned miracle worker. He already had my first two playmates taken to the Toybox and I just couldn’t wait to get started with them. 

He drove me to the Toybox about an hour after I’d gotten up. It may have only been for myself, but I wanted to look and feel good for what I was going to be doing that day. I made sure to dress carefully in my harlequin outfit after showering and shaving. Instead of using the white makeup on my face, I just crafted the mask with the black makeup, so my tattoos would show. 

I texted the guys at the Toybox so my friends would be exactly where I wanted them when I arrived, and the boys didn’t disappoint. When I walked into the knife room, they were tied to chairs and facing each other. 

“Ah, we finally meet!” 

They looked to me in terror. I’m pretty sure this is their first time outside of Massachusetts. Well, it’s certainly their first time being kidnapped, that’s for sure. 

“Lester and Chelsea Quinzel. It’s so good of you to be here today.” 

“Who are you?” Lester’s voice shook. 

“Don’t interrupt, it’s rude. Now, where was I... That’s right. So good of you to be here today. It’s been a long time coming and I’m just pleased as pickles you’re here. We really should have met a long time ago.” 

“What are we doing here?” Chelsea pleaded. 

“ _RUDE_. Honestly, how have you made it this far being such a rude couple? No matter. As I was saying, I’ve been planning this for a long time. You could probably say I’ve been planning it my whole life.” 

“What is this?!” Lester again. I punched him and Chelsea yelped in fear. 

“This is me getting mad. Ya know, I had this whole monologue planned out and you’re just ruining it. I thought you were supposed to be good Christians.” 

“How do you know - “ Lester began 

“Oh, I know plenty. I know that you’re 65 and 62, respectively. I know that you’ve been married for 46 years. I know you had one daughter. And I know you murdered her.” 

“How dare you!” screeched Chelsea. “Our precious child - “ 

“Is dead because of _you_. She died because you monsters refused her treatment. You refused her love. You refused her kindness. Now it’s your turn.” 

“Who the hell are you?!” Lester shouted. 

“What’s wrong? Can’t you see the family resemblance?” 

“Family?” Chelsea just looked confused. 

“We don’t know you,” Lester said gruffly. 

“Obviously. You could have. You could have known me from the second I was born. Instead, you ostracized and killed my mama.” 

“ _You’re_ the baby?!” Chelsea was horrified 

“The baby? _The baby?!_ Are you saying that you didn’t even know the gender of your only grandchild?!” 

“You were a mistake. A product of rape. We wanted you as far away from our daughter as possible so she could heal and move on.” 

“Heal and move on? _Heal_ and _move on_? You stole her child! Tore her away from the – admittedly evil – man that she loved. Ostracized her from her friends. Refused medication and therapy. Left her in the pit of despair and you thought she was going to _heal_ and _move on_?” 

“We spent hours praying with her and for her! We did everything we could!” 

I glared at Lester. “Well, tell you what, Grandpop. Now I’m gonna do _everything_ **_I_ ** _can_.” 

I took a blade from the wall and slowly started to carve. First came “Love” on their left forearms. Lester screamed at me to stop while Chelsea just screamed in pain. When it was his turn Chelsea couldn’t stop sobbing from her own pain while his voice bellowed as it joined her in wails of agony. Then came “Hate” on their right forearms. Their screeching cries were pure music. 

I started with Chelsea again, making long cuts across the “Love” carving to X it out. “All you have in your hearts is hate. Don’t even deserve to look at the word love.” 

Their screams as my knife sliced through their flesh were directed at each other. I’d had them placed so they were directly in front of each other, and I worked from their sides. They were forced to watch each other bleed and scream and cry. 

“Stop this!” shrieked Chelsea. “Please!” 

“You just need to pray for Jesus’ forgiveness and you’ll be fine.” 

Lester took me seriously and began a fervent prayer. I lashed out, catching him across the cheek with my blade. “Don’t you _fucking_ say that name in front of me!” 

“You said, you said,” he moaned. 

“I told you what you needed to do. But don’t you dare invoke the name of the one you used to murder my mama.” 

“We didn’t kill her!” Chelsea wept, “She took her own life.” 

“Because you gave her nothing else!” I snatched up a set of brass knuckles and punched her in the face. “You took everything!” Each word was accentuated by another punch. 

“You could have saved her and instead you drove her to her death. You could have saved us both and instead you left me to the Nelsons.” 

“We just wanted our daughter to be ok.” Lester cried. 

“She wasn’t ok. And instead of helping her, you left her to meaningless prayer.” 

“Prayer isn’t - “ 

“Oh, no, Grammie? Is prayer not meaningless? Tell you what. Why don’t you spend the next couple days praying. If I come back and you’re gone, then you’ll be right, won’t you? But if I come back and you’re still right here in this room, then you’ll have been left to the same amount of saving grace as my angel of a mama.” 

“We never meant to hurt Frances.” Chelsea was still weeping, her nose running, “We just wanted her to be ok.” 

“We did what we could.” 

“We didn’t, Lester! We were angry and thought if she just sought Jesus we wouldn’t have to deal with what she had done. We were wrong.” 

“Chelsea! Don’t let this psychotic - “ he broke off into a yelp when I used the brass knuckles to break his nose. 

“Don’t interrupt. I think Gram Gram is starting to get it.” 

“I miss her every day.” 

“Shut up, Grandma. We all do.” 

I tossed the brass knuckles onto a table in the small room and picked up my mallet. I hit Lester’s knee first, completely shattering it. Then I moved on to Chelsea’s. Their screams were a cacophony bouncing around the room and it was more music to my ears. Ever since finding out what happened to Mama, I have hated these two people more than any other people I’ve known. And in my career at Arkham I met some real awful people. Still, no one topped my hate list more than these two. 

“I want you to know that you’re going to end up like Mama.” 

It took a while for them to quiet down after being hit with the mallet. But I was patient. I’d waited nearly three decades for this. And I could see that they didn’t understand. 

“When someone decides to take their life, there’s a process. It’s not always the same for every person, but almost everyone thinks about it beforehand. And by the time they’re in the act, they’ve known for a while that they were going to die. So, I want you to think about that. Every second of the rest of your miserable little lives. Think about the fact that you don’t have much time left. You are going to die. Soon. By my hand.” 

They were weeping. Pitiful monsters. “If your faith is any good to you at all, then your prayers will be answered and you’ll get to live. Own up to what you’ve done and beg for Jesus’s forgiveness. That’s the only hope you have left.”


	33. Chapter 33

The night after I met my grandparents was the night we blew up the Gotham Stock Exchange. It was incredible! The explosion and the fire were so beautiful, such destruction and mayhem. By the time we’d gotten there most of the charges had been set and the boys were just finishing up placing the last two. We talked about J’s master plan and how it was all going to tie together in the end. I don’t really understand why he’s playing it this way, but it’s not for me to question. I love following his lead and helping him bring his plots to fruition. Which is why it was so great seeing that building explode. The ensuing fires raged late into the night; I think only being completely put out this morning. I don’t know how many other buildings of Gotham’s Wall Street were caught in the crossfire, but it seems like there must have been a lot. It’s going to take a long time for Gotham’s economy to recover from this very unfortunate blip.

I spent the day in my studio again. Jenni and Triss are absolute joys to work with. I don’t know if they’re putting on a show for me or if it’s how they truly are, but I don’t care. They make the art of aerial dancing even more enjoyable. 

I’ve asked for some improvements to the studio – things that I would find in the “wild” of Gotham City’s streets. As much as I adore the silks, it can't hurt to get in some practice for our late-night mayhem. After running from the Bat once, I’m positive it’s going to happen many more times. And I know that some of those times are going to require some … creative getaways. Might as well get in as much practice as I can before the time comes. The girls said they’d get someone right on it.

After getting home and showering well, I met up with Tommy in the third bedroom. This time I was getting “Property of Joker” on my back and a “J” on my upper arm. There wasn’t going to be any more confusion as to who I belong to or my importance. J would never have some random fangirl around – it would be too annoying. So, for me to be at his side with his name all over me, well let’s just say we won’t have another service charge incident. 

I woke up in the middle of the night to feel my love shifting my hips and quickly sliding himself inside me. I yelped from the surprise of his sudden entrance but quickly lost myself to blissful gasps as he rode me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed down, arching himself backward as he attacked my pussy furiously. Then he curled his fingers viciously, digging them into my shoulders painfully. I gushed my orgasm and he didn’t slow. Instead, he increased his speed, pounding my cunt with his cock. He felt extra big and it was absolutely glorious. I love the pressure of him pushing my body into the bed, the weight of him on top of me. He filled me in the way that only he could. It wasn't just about size, it was position; it was knowledge of my body and how his worked with mine. He knew exactly how to fit me perfectly. 

After my third or fourth orgasm, he tapped my thigh twice and I rolled over. In doggy style he reached even deeper, repeatedly slamming against my cervix and driving my cries to the loudest they’ve been, save the night I became reborn in Ace Chemicals. He bent over me, roughly grabbing my tits and squeezing, massaging. Firmly he tugged on my nipples, rolling them in his fingers severely, then back to roughly massaging my tits. He was like a man possessed, using my body in all the ways he wanted. His fingers moved to grip my hips so tightly I won’t be surprised if I have bruises in the morning. Then he went for the big guns. He disappeared for a minute and came back with lube and wearing a dual penetrator cock ring. It was intimidating looking, but I was also extremely eager. 

He liberally used lube and positioned his cock at my asshole. The dildo in the cock ring he just barely slipped inside my pussy. He wasn’t trying to push slow, but he was meeting some resistance. I tried to breathe deeply and force myself to relax but when he pushed in it hurt. A lot. Not just the fact that there had been zero preparation (our previous experience with anal is a total fluke, as I’ve read) but I had his girth in my ass and large dildo in my cunt. Being so stretched out in both places at once was such an amazing feeling. I've never been so filled. And then he started to move. I think I came before he’d fully entered me a second time. I don’t know if it was necessary or if he was giving me time to adjust, but he started out slow. With each thrust, he gradually grew faster until he was pounding me again. I came in one long continuous stream, my body unable to keep up with the unending bliss. He fisted one hand in my hair and yanked painfully. I cried out in ecstasy as my head rocked backward, loving the feeling. With his other hand, he shoved me down into the bed again, eventually using the hand still knotted in my hair to do the same. Moving my upper half downward gave a different feeling in both my pussy and my ass and damn if it didn't feel just amazing. My King is a sex god and I am blessed with the power of his touch. 

His fingers dug into my hips even harder than they had before and I heard him roar as his cock pulsed deep in my ass. I love the feeling of my daddy  cumming inside me.


	34. Chapter 34

When I woke up this morning, I didn’t know that today was the day. I didn’t know that today I would finally be getting my Quinnmobile. It wasn’t even planned. Frankie was driving me to the Toybox when I spotted it sitting in a car dealership. 

“PULL OVER,” I screamed and he did like he’d been about to hit somebody. 

“What the hell? Harley? You ok?” 

“LOOK AT HER.” My face was pressed against the car window, eyes staring at the absolute beauty. 

“Which one?” 

“THE PERFECT ONE.” I don’t know cars. Frankie knows this. Why he asked which one is beyond me. 

Once I finally pointed it out he told me it was a Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG Black Series. It’s the prettiest car I’ve ever seen, even if it does need to be painted. For now, the plain black looks perfect. 

I didn’t want to buy it, even though I knew Mistah J could buy ten without breaking a sweat. No, I was gonna steal this baby all on my own. My Quinnmobile. I get it by myself. 

Except, I did have to leave the car Frankie was driving as collateral when I took the SLS AMG for a test ride. I mean, I told them it was a test ride. I wasn’t exactly gonna say I wasn’t bringing it back, was I? So, my Quinnmobile. I get it _mostly_ by myself. And J can always have the guys steal his car back if he cares that much about it. 

I know exactly how I’m gonna have it painted. Red and black, split down the middle. Opposite color diamonds on the front and back. She’s going to be gorgeous, matching my harlequin costume. I spent the day driving Frankie around the city until the dealership put out an APB with the police. Once they were on our tail, Frankie had to guide me to the nearest secret entrance to the underground road. Back at the Penthouse, I made Frankie promise me the paint job would be done ASAP and it would have new plates on it before the next time I took her for a drive. 

I didn’t want to get out of the car when I finally parked it in the underground garage. Finally, I lifted the door and climbed out. 

“It’s a bit cramped in there.” 

“Only because you’re a behemoth.” I stuck out my tongue at Frankie. “Don’t talk about my Quinnmobile like she’s anything less than perfect, thank you.” 

He laughed. We’ve really gotten to be close. He’s a good friend. He’s been my saving grace for when J’s run off to work on his master plan. I honestly don’t know what I would have done with myself during those long hours alone. Even with the studio and the Toybox, I still would have felt really lonely. Having Frankie around, someone that I really got along with, made the days easier. 

We headed upstairs and just hung out watching movies. J had plans for the evening so we waited for him to return to the Penthouse. It was only a few hours before he got back – I'd driven around Gotham for a long time after stealing the Quinnmobile. 

My daddy walked in the door with a gift for me. A gorgeous red and black corset/bodice and a pair of red and black leather pants, both with alternating diamonds. Black and red shitkicker boots with diamonds. I looked like a fucking badass. 

I didn’t do my harlequin makeup, instead opting for a red on one eye and black on the other makeup look and putting my hair up in pigtails, reminiscent of my jester hat. He also gave me a shoulder holster and a custom Rhino revolver. It had diamonds, J’s jester symbol, and Love and Hate alternately written on the cylinder. A gorgeous gun. 

He helped me get the shoulder holster on and loaded with the gun and extra bullets. “Where we goin’ tonight, Puddin’?” 

“We’re gonna show Two Face what happens when he tries to move in on my turf.” 

I clapped, “Ooo, a gang fight? This is gonna be fun!” 

Jonny drove us in the Lamborghini again, this time to where a load of J’s boys were waiting. We got out of the car and I followed J to the group of henchmen. Dil handed me an assault rifle. 

“Here we are, boys,” J spoke in that way of his. His drawl that drew you in. “Now, Two Face thinks he can move in on my territory. His men killed off a lot of ours, and the survivors didn’t survive long for their failure.” 

There was the slightest murmur in the crowd, but it ended with a look from J. “Are we going to let them get away with this?” 

“No!” 

“Let’s go.” 

He led us out of the alley and sent groups of men outside varying buildings, leading me to the one in the middle, where Two Face himself was due to be. The kick that burst the door open was the signal for everyone else to follow suit. We burst inside, bullets spraying. They weren’t expecting us, but they reacted quickly, pulling up their guns and returning fire. Gunfire flashed all over the room, people on both sides dropping. I tossed a grenade into the mix, blowing up Two Face’s men before I took a bullet just below my sternum and fell to the ground with a grunt. _Shit am I about to die?_

With much effort, I lifted my head to look down at my chest. No blood. One hand checked the spot where I’d been hit and I winced. _Ok. Bulletproof - check. Not pain proof though. Ugh, that hurt._

Breathing was slightly difficult; I was definitely going to bruise. Thus far I hadn’t seen Two Face. He wasn’t in this building at the very least. Frankie pulled me to my feet and shifted me behind him. I pulled out my revolver and took more careful aim than I had with the assault rifle. Headshots only. It was difficult because of the number of men in the fray, but by the time we were done, there were only our guys standing. We wandered back out onto the street, waiting for everyone else to finish up. A slew of Two Face’s men came out of one of the buildings, clearly a place where we failed. Everyone in the street made easy work of them. 

We all met up in a group again. “Good work, boys!” It wasn’t often J offered praise, made evident by the expressions of the men that were left. “Looks like we got all the henchmen outta the way. But I didn't see Two Face. Did anyone get a glimpse of him?” 

There was more murmuring among the men, this time expressing that no one had seen him. J growled, cricking his neck with a frown. It was clear he'd wanted to take out Harvey Dent, but with the man hiding somewhere else he hadn't gotten the opportunity. He didn't let it ruin his mood though, sending a number of men to scour the buildings in the surrounding area to find any stragglers that may have survived. Two Face wasn't getting any of his men back. That's what he gets for daring to try to take the Joker's territory. ~~_If I find him, I'll kill him myself._ ~~

J left the bodies for whenever Harvey decided to check on what he thought was his new turf. Let him see what happens when he tries to steal from my J – he loses everything. 


	35. Chapter 35

I spent all day yesterday at my studio, working myself to the bone out of pure joy. Triss and Jenni didn’t seem to mind the on-call aspect of our relationship. Or, they were really good at hiding it. I never saw the slightest glimpse of irritation from either of them, and while I wouldn’t consider them friends it was still nice to be around them. 

Today started out back at the Toybox. I walked in wearing my harlequin outfit but no cowl – just pigtails. “Lookie here!” I crowed when I opened the door to the knife room., “Seems like your prayers were meaningless after all, huh, Grams?” 

She started crying quietly. I shook my head, “Aw, come on. Don’t tell me you actually thought you were gonna get out of here.” 

“Please,” Lester’s voice was quiet. “Please, just let us go.” 

“Not happening, Grandpa. I told you, I’m gonna kill ya. I haven’t decided when yet, but it’s gonna happen.” 

A few of J’s guys followed me in and picked up my grandparents in their chairs, moving them to the room with medieval torture devices. They looked around in abject fear, their terror at seeing the rack, the chair of torture, and the iron maiden was so thick it could be felt. But I wasn’t going for big items with them. I wanted small, up close, and personal torture for these two. 

Their wounds had gotten infected. There was a smell when I'd entered the knife room, and the cuts looked red and inflamed. 

“I think we’ll start with Gramps today. What do you think, Grampie?” 

Soft, quiet tears streamed from his eyes, “Just don’t hurt Chelsea.” 

“Don’t ask for shit you know you can’t have.” 

The thumbscrews came out first. I needed a couple of guys to hold him still, but eventually, I got them on his fingers and toes. Then I put some on my grandmother. I tightened each one individually, following a sort of circle with them. Starting with Lester, one hand then the next, then down to the toes. Then on to Chelsea in the same pattern. Back and forth I went until their weeping turned to screams and their bodies began to shake from pain. 

Chelsea’s bones broke first. Her toes. First her left, then her right. Her right hand’s fingers were next. Then Lester’s right toes before I got back to her and her left hand’s fingers snapped. That didn’t stop me from tightening the thumbscrews, though. Not even when all of Lester’s appendages were broken. I continued tightening until I felt it was time to stop - which was when they just wouldn’t tighten anymore. 

Then I pulled out the tongue tearer, “For every lie you spewed at my mama. For every time you told her Jesus would save her. For murdering her. This will ensure you never do it again.” 

Mick held Lester’s head back and Frankie yanked his mouth open. It took a couple tries to get it to fit properly since I hadn’t used one before. I slowly twisted the screw so the metal would gradually tighten on his tongue. He started screaming around the tearer before I even saw blood. 

“Can’t handle consequences, huh, Grandpa?” I twisted the screw viciously and he began to wail. Before long his tongue completely ripped out of his head, blood pouring from his mouth. 

“Your turn, Grandma! Don’t worry, you get a fresh one all to yourself.” 

“Please. Please, don’t do this.” 

“Tell you what. If you can tell me my name, you get a free pass.” 

She froze, eyes wide. Her lip began to tremble and she burst into tears. 

“That’s what I thought. You say you loved Mama, but you didn’t even care to know the gender or name of her only child. So, fuck you, Grams. It’s your turn.” I took the other tongue tearer and got it attached much faster the second time. I didn’t bother going slow with her, instead I was quite vicious. The screw turned quickly under my fingers, the tearer moving about wildly. She was screaming from the first second, almost choking on her own blood when she foolishly tried to pull away. “Cut it out, Grammie, you’re just making this go faster.” 

A second tongue decorated the table, blood pouring from the mouths of my mama’s parents. “Ya know, I’m afraid you’re gonna bleed to death. And we can’t possibly give you medical attention when you denied it to Mama. So, I guess you die now. Mickie?” 

He left the room for a minute and came back with two nooses. The noises that came from their mouths were delicious. The monster in my head chattered happily, reveling in the blood and torture. ~~_Time to die. Time to DIE. TIME TO DIE. TIME TO DIE!_ ~~

“You go the same way she did.” 

Their sanguine wails filled me with warmth from scalp to toes. Frankie and Mick got the nooses hung where I wanted them. They then untied Lester and Chelsea from their chairs and placed a noose around each of their necks. I knew I couldn’t lift either of them off the ground, so the boys looped the ropes around pipes at the sides of the room and used them like winches to lift the bodies high into the air before tying off the ropes to let them dangle. 

I watched every second of their deaths. The choking gasps that gurgled, the twitching bodies, useless fingers scrabbling lamely at the ropes. Violently shaking legs, muffled, garbled screams that came out like whispers, blood that continued to pour from their mouths. Broken, begging eyes; eyes looking for hope, for salvation where none would come. Tears filled those eyes like little gems, sparkling in the lights so prettily. It took longer than you'd think. I watched justice until those bodies grew limp. 

"Leave them up there for now. It's the closest they'll get to heaven." 


	36. Chapter 36

I didn’t think there could be an instance where I was furious with my Puddin’, but we’ve finally gotten there. I am SO angry I’m practically shaking. We’d had such a nice time and he had to ruin it by being an asshole. I can’t even believe he would … 

If I don’t write down what happened instead of just my emotions, I’m not going to sort through everything the way I can when I journal my normal way. So, here’s what happened. 

We were at the Smile and Grin again. J saw me watching one of the dancers and sent Jonny to bring her over. I didn’t expect my first experience with a woman would happen in a private corner of a strip club, but that’s just how it worked out. Her fingers buried in my hair, my mouth tasting her delicious pussy, my daddy buried in my cunt. Every thrust of his sent my tongue pressing harder against her and our moans matched each other in a perfect chorus. I didn’t know Jonny and Frankie stood guard on the other side of the gold bead curtain to make sure no one dared get too close and think they could get a show. Normally J and I wouldn’t care, but I think the boys figured I would want a little privacy. Actually, since it was Jonny that first went over there, I’m pretty sure he just wanted to protect me. 

The girl and I switched positions after J came in me. I wanted her to eat his cum out of me, and I wanted to watch my daddy working his magic. _I know how it feels, but I_ _wanna_ _see it for myself._

Before her tongue touched my folds, I reached inside myself and pulled out a mixture of our fluids, licking my fingers before wiping them down her chest towards J. Instead of lying in front of her, I’d sat on her face. J and I kissed over her body, both of us riding her. There was no way anyone in the club didn’t know what was going on, even if they couldn’t be positive of who it was in the VIP room. 

Watching him from my position was just phenomenal. I got to see the way his hips move, the flashing of his cock as it slid in and out of her beautiful pussy, the burning of his eyes on mine as he fucked this other woman. I think I’m polysexual, but not polyromantic. I couldn’t have actual relationships with people other than Puddin’, but fucking them with my daddy? Yes fucking please. 

He was exhausted when we got home. But I was wired. I was riding the high of my first threesome and he was ready for bed. I admit I may have gotten a bit annoying. 

“Puddin’ talk to me.” I bounced on the bed next to him. I was sitting up, but he was lying down trying to sleep. 

“Ugghhhhh.” 

“Thaaat’s not words. C’mon, I wanna talk about the girl! What was her name? She was so much fun, Daddy.” 

“Shhhhh.” 

“I didn’t think pussy would taste like that. Does it always taste like that? But you said I tasted like pumpkin pie. Or was that just you being sexy?” 

“Harley,” he snapped with a growl. 

“Do you think she’d come home with us one night? Is it a job requirement to sleep with the boss? Oh shit … did she wanna do that or did we just rape her?” She didn’t seem to mind. Didn’t pull away when Jonny had told her what we wanted. I’d watched him go over to her, watched the smile on her lips and the nod she gave before following him back to us. “Eh, whatever.” 

“You need to stop talking.” 

“I can’t!! I have too much energy. It was soooo fun. I’ve got this sex high. Watching you with her was so awesome.” 

“Shut. Up.” 

“I told you, I can’t.” I bounced on the bed again. 

“Then get out.” 

“But I wanna be _with_ you.” 

“I need sleep.” 

“But if you’re sleeping, you’re not with me!” I started poking at him, trying to get him to get up and interact with me. 

“Stop it.” he ordered. 

“Aw, come on, Puddin’. Talk to me.” I kept up my poking. 

With a growl, he whipped over and into a seated position, then he was shoving me off the bed with more force than he’d ever used with me before. I hit my head on the wall and saw stars. 

“Go sleep in your room!” he roared. 

I slowly came to myself and looked up at him, “My … what?” 

“Get out and go sleep in your room.” 

I slowly stood and he barked, “Now!” 

With a yelp, I rushed out of our bedroom. His bedroom? Just what did he think was going on here? That he _allowed_ me to sleep in _his_ bed? I’d thought we slept together in our bed... 

I started to cry as I made my way to the second bedroom. My bedroom? He’d never called it my bedroom before. _Why would he kick me out?_ _I miss Daddy_ , the little girl wept in my head. 

Walking into the second bedroom felt like walking into hell. I wasn’t supposed to be there. I was supposed to be curled up with my love. _Should have just shut up, Harleen._

I started to weep when I realized what I’d called myself. After lying on the bed for a long while, just crying to myself, I started to get mad. How dare he? 

He calls me his queen then kicks me out the second I don’t do what he wants? Fine, if he wants me out, out I go. 

I first put together a bag of a few items I’d need then I grabbed a bunch of pillows and set them up under the sheets to make it look like I was sleeping. _Let him think that I’m being a brat and spending the day in bed. It’s what he deserves._

And then I left. I walked into the elevator and went down to the garage. I grabbed the keys for the Quinnmobile and sent a text to Frankie before driving into the underground streets. “u up?” 

“yeah. whatchu need?” 

I tapped on the cell while I drove, deciding to take the first exit I found since I had no idea where they all led. “can I come over?” 

He sent his address and I drove like a madwoman. Because I was a _mad_ woman. When I finally got to his place I parked on the curb and hit the buzzer. Instead of buzzing me in, he opened the door from the inside, “You ok, Harley?” 

“Not even a little.” I huffed. He took my bag and led me up the stairs to his place. 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

“Mistah J kicked me out.” 

“WHAT?!” I wasn’t expecting such a huge response. After all, Puddin’ and I have only known each other a few weeks. 

“Not like that. He just … sent me to my room.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“He got pissed and shoved me into a wall and told me to ‘go sleep in my room.’ I figured he meant the room where my clothes are. But if he wants to kick me out, then fine. I’ll get out.” 

“So, he expects you to be there tomorrow morning?” 

“Are you gonna make me leave?” After all, Frankie is J’s guy. His loyalty is with J. But Frankie shook his head and just held out his arms. I sunk into them, feeling comforted and safe. 

"I was just watching some TV, wanna join me?” 

I nodded and followed him further into his apartment, which was pretty nice. Nothing like the Penthouse, but far better than the hole in the wall I’d lived in a month ago. “You got any booze?” 

He made me a giant white Russian and we sat on the couch together. 

“Do pussies taste different?” I took a big swig of the drink he’d made. It was fucking delicious. I didn’t know exactly how he made it but damn, I’m having him make me these more often. 

“Yeah, they do. Why?” 

“Just curious. I didn’t know if that was how they all tasted or if it was different with different girls. Puddin’ said I tasted like pumpkin pie.” 

“I’ve never tasted food when down there. Just pussy.” he laughed. 

“Yeah, I thought he was just talkin’ shit. But it was sexy at the time. ... Our first time.” I thought of my office back in Arkham and the way he’d touched me when we were there together. 

Frankie didn’t pry. I could tell he wanted to know more about what had happened between me and Mistah J, but I didn’t know if I wanted to talk about it. Instead, we talked about TV and movies and sex. I may or may not have still been feeling the sex high from earlier, and he was really easy to talk to. Before I knew it, my drink was gone and I was feeling good. “That was amazing, how did you make that?” 

“Caramel vodka, French vanilla Kahlua, chocolate cherry Baileys, and a dash of milk.” 

I started laughing, “So basically all liquor.” 

“Of course.” he took my cup, “Want another?” 

“Look at the size of that cup! Just how drunk do you want me to get?” 

He chuckled, “That’s up to you, Harley.” 

“Then I want another.” 

He fixed me a second drink and we went back to talking about sex, “No, it’s true. I honestly thought I was asexual.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Eh, you didn’t know me back then. I was so uptight.” I waved a hand. “I don’t know why, I just never enjoyed it. I mean, I felt things. Just not enough to make me want it again, you know?” 

He shook his head, “Not in the slightest.” 

I cracked up at that, “It probably stemmed from all the sex I had in high school just trying to find someone to love me. I never did it cuz I wanted it; it was all traded for love. Love I never really got. So, my body just went ‘Ah, fuck you. If you don’t want it, you don’t enjoy it.’” 

“I don’t think it works that way.” 

“It can. The brain is a very funny and fickle thing. Why do you think there are so many different mental disorders and so many varying symptoms within those mental disorders? It really is quite fascinitating when you delve into it.” 

Frankie burst out laughing, much to my confusion. “What?” 

“Fascinitating.” 

“Fascina-shing. … Fanance-ating. ... Fas-or-nation. … It’s cool, ok?” 

Frankie just continued to laugh so I kept drinking with a shrug. “I know what I mean.” 

“I know what you mean too, Harley, I do.” he chuckled, wiping at his eyes. 

There was something really smooth about the white Russian he’d mixed up, so I was able to drink it fast. The flashiness of the ad on TV caught my eye and I found my attention wandering. We just watched for a little bit, quiet, until I asked, “What’s your number?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Your sex number. Partners. I think I’m at like …. 29?” 

“Higher than that.” 

“Aw, come on, tell me.” 

“Probably in the sixties?” 

“That’s not bad. I thought it would be much higher.” 

He snorted, “Just how much of a man whore do you think I am?” 

“No, I mean ... you’re gorgeous. You’ve probably got men and women coming up to you all the time.” 

He laughed, “Thank you?” 

“Hey, Frankie?” 

“Yeah?” 

I put down my empty cup and climbed onto his lap, one knee on either side of his legs, “Wanna help me reach 30?” 

“Harley, you’re really drunk...” 

“Correct.” 

“J doesn’t know you’re gone.” 

I pulled off my shirt and tossed it behind me, “Correct.” 

“We shouldn’t do this. It’s not right.” 

I put my hands on either side of his face and got very serious, “I fuck where I want, when I want, and who I want. That’s how he made me. That’s who I am. That’s how I like it.” 

His eyes looked back and forth between mine and finally, I felt his hands on my back. I crushed his mouth with mine, dancing my tongue against his. His thick fingers nimbly undid my bra and he pulled it off me, tossing it onto the floor. He stood up from the couch, one hand massaging my ass and the other wrapped around me so I wouldn’t fall. And then he carried me to his bedroom, where he dropped on top of me on the bed, still kissing me with reckless abandon. I pulled at his shirt and he moved off me enough that I could get it off him completely. He stood up and pulled off my pants and underwear in one move before climbing atop me again. Middle finger in his mouth and then between my lower lips, rubbing against my clit gently. His mouth descended onto my nipple, sucking and licking and even taking a nibble or two. I moaned loudly, loving the tiny bits of pain he was giving me. His finger entered me, curling up to hit my g-spot and I instinctively grabbed onto his arm. He responded by biting down on my nipple and I shrieked my first orgasm. He kept working his finger on my g-spot but broke away from my nipple to claim my mouth in a rough kiss. I moaned into his lips when I came again. 

When he pulled out I sat up, grabbing at his pants, “Take these off. I wanna suck on your cock.” 

“Only if I get to taste you too.” 

Within seconds he was fully naked and had me on top of him in a sixty-nine position. He buried his face in my pussy and I could barely get him in my mouth. He’s definitely bigger than J, not just in length but in girth and that’s where I struggled. But I’m a fucking trooper and I figured it out goddammit. Because that’s the kind of girl I am. 

I used my hand as well as my mouth, my screaming muffled by his cock whenever I came. I saw the biggest grin on his face when I climbed off him. 

“I’ve never been with a squirter before.” 

“Oh … you’re welcome?” 

“Fuck yes.” He grabbed me and spun me upright so I faced him, then he rummaged around in his nightstand and came back with a condom. After getting it on quickly, he slid between my legs and positioned himself. When he started to enter me I cried out, “Jesus, fuck!” 

“You ok?” 

“It’s so big.” 

“You ok?” 

“More. I want the pain.” I didn’t have to ask a second time, he thrust himself into me and shuddered when I clenched around him, cumming I don’t know how long. He waited a second for me to adjust but I didn’t care about that. I started moving my hips against him, sliding him in and out of me. He moaned and caught himself from falling atop me again. 

He knew what I wanted and started fucking me heartily. Legs lifted up into the air so my cunt aimed up at him, burying himself to the hilt because he knew it would hurt me and that’s what I’d asked for. His thrusts were fast, wild. He pounded me until I cried from the bliss. Literal tears streamed from my eyes and I wept as if my heart were broken. But it was joy. It was intense pleasure that blinded out everything else. There was nothing in my brain but the buzz of continuous orgasms. 

When he rolled me over, I stopped crying and started shouting. Doggy style always changes how the guy feels, and for me, it’s always more intense. Apparently, more intense with Frankie means repeatedly screaming “It’s so big!” at the top of my lungs. I feel bad for his neighbors... No, I don’t. I don’t give a shit about them. 

He had his hands on my shoulders, wet squelching from my juices marking each thrust. That and my incessant screaming. It was just so _good_. Not as good as J, but better than Jonny.

_I never_ _wanna_ _stop. Don't stop, don’t stop. God, just keep fucking me._

It seemed like he would, just keep fucking forever. I don’t know if it was my drunk brain or if we actually did fuck for hours but it felt like an eternity of bliss. We changed positions a number of times but when he finally came I had him yank on my hair so I could cum in time with him. He didn’t pull like J does, with a definitive yank, but the pressure and pain in my roots was exactly what I was looking for. We finished together and passed out on opposite sides of the bed. 


	37. Chapter 37

I started the following day by powering down one of Sal’s egg sandwiches – courtesy of Frankie going out first thing to get it for me. Then I wrote my last journal entry. He asked me how long I planned on staying. 

“I don’t know yet. I think … I just know I can’t go home yet. Let him worry and stew for a little while.” 

“But you’ll go back?” 

“Eventually.” Thinking about it was making me angry, so I decided to tell him exactly what had happened the previous night. It helped I had just written it all out and had it clear in my head. He listened quietly and when I finished, he nodded. 

“Yeah, you both suck.” 

That made me laugh for some reason but I still threw a pillow at him. “Dick.” 

He chuckled, “Nah, don’t get me wrong. You know a man’s gotta sleep, so you were just being annoying as hell. But he shouldn’t be pushing you that hard. Or kicking you out of your bedroom.” 

“ _Thank_ you. I knew I was right.” 

“That’s not what I said,” he chuckled. 

“But that’s what I heeaaard.” I singsonged. He laughed again. 

We watched TV for a little while. It wasn’t until about 11:30 that I got my first text. 

“Where are you?” from Jonny. I texted back a “fuck you” emoji. 

Jonny must have noticed that I was gone before J, and chose not to say anything because it was another hour before I heard from him. It read exactly the same “Where are you?” but I could feel the anger radiating from the words. Even though it made my heart pound, I texted back the same emoji. 

“Get your ass home.” came flying back. 

“Fuck off.” was my reply. 

“HOME. NOW.” My heart stuttered in its beating. 

“No.” 

And then silence. It was really unnerving. I expected more fight, more anger. I expected a fit, to be honest. For me to not be where he expected, to have run out in the middle of the night, to refuse to go back to him … those are the worst things I could do. And I know how he responds when things don’t go his way. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but I wasn’t going to let him get away with kicking me out. 

But for there to be nothing? No rage? No answer at all? It was confusing. And terrifying. Who knew what he was going to do next? 

If I’d thought about it, really thought about it, it was obvious what he was going to do. The fact it didn’t occur to me makes me feel like an idiot. It’s _so_ obvious. He logged into my phone’s GPS. 

The banging on Frankie’s door didn’t even clue me in, but from the way he walked over, I’m pretty sure he knew. He never checked to see who was there, just opened it, and stood back. J strode in, eyes dark with fury. I shrank back in my seat on the couch. 

He snarled. On the one hand, it was incredibly sexy. On the other, it was fucking terrifying. That snarling growl. “What do you think you’re doing.” 

I barely noticed Jonny trailing after J into the apartment, my eyes were frozen on my daddy’s. And my daddy was _mad_. I swallowed and forced some steel into my spine. Raising my brows was a challenge to him, “You told me to get out. So, I did.” 

He snarled again and I barely caught the shiver it would bring out. “I told you to go -” 

“To _my_ room?” It was time for my own rage to come out and I stood up, hands balled into fists, staring him down just as much as he was staring me down. “You told me to go to ‘ _my’_ room. ‘My’ room. Like we haven’t been sharing a bed from the moment we left Arkham. Like I was just another girl for you to take into your bed as you please. Another girl to be kicked out when her usefulness was over. I am _not_ just some other girl.” I stepped forward until I was inches away from him, “I am the motherfucking Queen of Gotham and if you aren’t going to treat me that way, then you can bet your sweet ass I will leave. Every time.” 

The rage etched in his face would normally have sent me scrabbling to please him, would send anyone else quaking. But I was too angry in return. “My queen comes back to me.” 

“And I would have. When I was ready.” 

“You come when you’re called.” 

“I may be a bitch but I’m _not_ a dog!” I snapped. “You don’t get to name me queen and then treat me like a servant. ... Hell, you don’t get to name me queen. I name myself queen. With or without you, I am Queen of Gotham. I don’t need you bu- “ 

_CRACK_

He slapped me so hard I fell as I saw stars. Then he was down in front of me, his hand wrapped around my throat, “Don’t you _ever_ think you don’t need me, Pumpkin. You live for me. You die for me. When I call, you come running. I made you, I named you, you are nothing without me.” 

I punched him and he slammed me to the ground, pressing on my windpipe. Frankie took one step forward, but J locked his eyes on him and he stopped. He looked to me and I just barely shook my head, one small move you wouldn’t see unless you were looking for it. To anyone else, it looked like Frankie obeyed J. But we both knew it was my orders he was really following. 

J looked down at me with fury, “You are _mine;_ you hear me? _Mine.”_

“You think I don’t know that?” I barely got out. He released my neck and I coughed violently. 

“We’re going home.” 

“Not until you apologize.” 

Hairless brows knit together in rage. “We go home _now_.” 

“No.” 

He slapped me again, this time grabbing my upper arm and yanking me to my feet. He didn’t let go of my arm, just shoved me forward in front of him, a march of forced obedience. Before turning the corner, I yelled back to Frankie, “Only Harley Quinn drives the Quinnmobile!” 

“I know, Harley.” If I didn’t know him so well, I wouldn’t have heard the note of sadness in his voice. He should know I’ll be fine though. Mistah J and I will get through this spat and everything will go back to normal. 

He shoved me into the passenger side of one of his Bugatti's, but when he went to walk around the car I climbed out and slammed the door. His growl rose to a roar of frustration, “Harley, get in the _fucking car_.” 

“No. I told you I’m not going back until you apologize.” 

“I have nothing to apologize for.” 

“So, you’re saying I have my own room back home?” 

“What is so wrong with that?!” 

“I don’t _join you_ in _your bed_ .” I snapped angrily. “ _We_ go to _our bed_.” 

He scowled, “What’s the difference?” 

“What’s the difference? _What’s the difference_? Are you serious?” from his expression I could tell he was. “The difference is where I belong. Do I belong with you or do I belong somewhere else? Am I your equal or just someone to use?” 

“No one -” 

“Think before you speak. No one is on your level; I can agree to that. But don’t you dare say I am not your equal. I got you out of Arkham. I killed your enemies. I was reborn in the same vat that made you. You can’t bear me to say I don’t need you, but you dare to say I don’t belong at your side?” 

I could see it clicked. I hadn’t changed his mind, just made it clearer. But J was never the type to give in, “That’s not what I said.” 

“Not with words. But it’s what you said with your actions. I know I’m an annoying piece of shit, but that doesn’t mean you get to tell me I don’t belong with you.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Maybe not. But that’s what came across.” 

“Harley...” He walked to me on the sidewalk and took me in his arms, “I’m sorry. Will you please come home?” 

I squealed and jumped up, wrapping my arms around his neck, “Oh, Puddin’. I love you too.” My eyes filled with tears as I kissed him. 

“Let’s go home.” 

I happily climbed into the car, staring out the window as he drove. “Did you see my car? Isn’t she pretty? Frankie had her painted for me.” 

I chattered away as he drove, not knowing what was about to happen. I had no idea what was coming. Again, if I’d thought about it, I should have known our reconciliation couldn’t have gone so easily. I should have known his apology was manipulation just to get me back to the high rise. 

He didn’t go to the speed elevator to the Penthouse when we got back to the underground garage. He went to the one Frankie had brought us back upstairs with after my shopping spree. We went to floor 72 and walked through the offices, out to the other elevator. I waved at the secretary lady and she just quietly smiled in response. 

Once inside the second elevator, he hit the button for floor 69 and that’s when I realized … I was still in trouble. 

The Playroom was empty, as it had been the last time we went there. He brought me to a different room; this one was completely black, and there was only one item in it. A black Sybian. I’d never seen one before. And now I wish I never had. 

“Wh... what’s that, Puddin’?” 

“That’s your punishment.” 

“But -” 

“No backtalk, little girl. You wanted your apology. I want mine.” 

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I -” 

“No.” It wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t commanding. His voice had been soft and almost sweet as soon as we’d entered the black room. I realized what it was … it was a Daddy voice. The way a daddy would talk to his little girl. But J wasn’t using it for comfort and connection. No, he was using it for discipline. 

“Take off your clothes.” 

I did as I was told. He led me to the upside-down half circle with a dildo attachment set on a custom metal stand. “Now, climb on.” 

He helped me to do so, without his usual fondling and copious touching. It was parental instruction - clear and simple, so the child would understand and follow correctly. Once on properly, the dildo buried in my cunt, he used silk ropes to tie my limbs to the metal stand so I wouldn’t fall over. 

“What did you do that was wrong, baby girl?” 

My voice was small when I answered, “I left.” 

“Not just that, what else?” 

“I wouldn’t let you sleep.” 

“And?” 

“I hit you?” 

“You disobeyed me, little one. You left me and you disobeyed me. That’s unacceptable.” 

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” 

“No, no, no. Say it again you’ll be in even more trouble. That’s not the apology I want from you.” 

“What do you -” and then he clicked on the Sybian. I shrieked in shock from the intense vibrations. Of course, it was set on its highest setting. He smiled at me, a soft and almost loving smile. 

“You’re going to sit right here and think about what you’ve done, little girl.” 

And then he clicked off the light and left. 

“Daddy?” I’ve never been in a black so overwhelming. No light anywhere, not even a speck. The darkness pressed in from all sides, touching every inch of my skin 

“Daddy?!” I could feel an orgasm building, but I couldn’t even enjoy it. I was too scared. Being locked away in the dark wasn’t something that had happened to me before. But I’d heard my previous patients talk about the abject fear, being stuck in the nothing, not knowing how long you’d be left in there. Now I really understood what they meant. 

“ _Daddy_!” I shrieked, begging him to come back for me. And then I came, crying out from the pleasure. I pulled on the ropes holding my limbs, hoping there would be some give even though I knew better. He wasn’t going to give me an out. He’d tied those things tight and with strong knots. 

“Puddin, _please_!” The Sybian hit me from the inside and the outside. There was a nub that touched my clit as well as the dildo within me. I found myself cumming in succession, never knowing when it would end. As soon as one climax ended another began. My body just wouldn’t stop. 

I was screaming incoherently. Still trying to call for him, but my mouth wouldn’t make words. I pulled harder against the ropes without meaning to. My body just contracted with each orgasm. I don’t know how long I sat there in the dark, my only company the buzzing of the Sybian. My legs hurt from the vibrations, my cunt hurt from the endless orgasms, my wrists hurt from being tied. I was exhausted, covered with a sheen of sweat and juices, and had no idea how much longer I would be stuck in that room. 

Blinded by the light shining through the door was nothing like when the lights turned back on in the black room. I blinked repeatedly, trying to get my eyes to adjust. J, Jonny, and Frankie were all in the room when I was finally able to see. 

Frankie was bound and gagged, on his knees in front of Jonny and J was holding a gun. _Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit._

Jonny walked over and untied my right arm. J passed him the gun and he put it in my hand. 

“Time for phase 2, Pumpkin.” he was still speaking in the soft Daddy voice. “The other part of your punishment. For his part in hiding you from me, you’re gonna kill Frankie.” 

“ _What_? No!” My eyes widened in horror. He couldn’t be serious. _Please tell me you’re joking,_ _Puddin'_ _._ ~~_Blood. Death. KILL HIM._ ~~ _Shut up, you freak._

The gun shook in my hand. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill him just for giving me a safe haven when I was in need. 

“You know what you need to do, baby girl.” 

“I won’t. I can’t.” My blue eyes met his crystal ones, “He’s my only friend.” 

“Aw, that’s sweet.” He stepped closer to me, “Doesn’t change your punishment, though.” 

The gun shook in my hand as I came again, through the pain of what must have been hours of Sybian use. I knew I couldn’t kill Frankie. But how was I going to get out of this? It came to me, the solution. Well, a solution. Who knows if it would actually work? 

I pointed the gun at Jonny. 

“Now, now, little one.” 

“I won’t hurt Frankie.” I was determined. 

“You’re going to do as you’re told.” 

“ _NO!_ I am _not_ going to kill the only friend I have. I am _not_ going to hurt someone that helped me.” 

“Do not disobey me again, Pumpkin.” 

I glared at him, gun still aimed at Jonny, “You wanna be mad at me, you wanna punish me, fine. There’s no reason to hurt Frankie. He didn’t hide me; he gave me a safe place to stay. Or would you rather I spent the night curled up in the Quinnmobile somewhere? Would you rather I stay out on the street alone all night?” 

“Harley.” it wasn’t a warning. Or maybe it was. His Daddy voice took some getting used to. 

“I’m sorry I left and I’m sorry I disobeyed. But you’re gonna have to find a different punishment because I’m not going to kill him!” 

His frown reminded me that I wasn’t supposed to say ‘I’m sorry’ again. _Whoops._ That and the fact that I was once again disobeying. I knew he wasn’t happy with me. 

He strode over and took the gun from my hand, nodding to Jonny, who came back and retied my arm with the silk rope. Jonny walked to the door, standing just behind J, who was standing next to the still kneeling Frankie. J cocked the gun. 

“No!” 

The lights went out and the gun went off. I screamed and fought wildly against the ropes. “ _FRANKIE_!” 

_Not again, not again._ My mind whimpered. Losing Frankie felt like losing Mama. He shared her name; was the only person I was close to besides J. His murderer. 

“I HATE YOU!” I shrieked. “I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU.” 

And then I started weeping. Brokenhearted, end of days, broken bone type bawling that expressed all the pain deep within me. _How could the man I love hurt me so badly? How could he do this to me?_

I heard the body being dragged from the room and the door closed behind them. Someone had turned out the hall lights so there would be nothing but shadows moving in front of my vision before the door slammed. Letting myself hang from the ropes tying my arms, I wept bitterly and without end. Frankie was more than my only friend right now. He’d been one of the truest friends of my life. Closer than my dormmates who didn’t understand me or my passions. Closer than high school friends who never knew what was going on at home. Closer than anyone I’d met while working at the asylum. Frankie was my friend. And Frankie was gone. 

More time passed. By the time all was said and done, my Sybian punishment lasted about five hours. J came back alone, propping me up as he untied me as my body had grown limp from orgasmic and brokenhearted exhaustion. I was still crying and probably looked an absolute mess. After getting all the ropes undone, he gathered me in his arms and carried me like a babe. I wept on his shoulder as he brought me upstairs to the Penthouse. 

“You disobeyed me again, little one.” 

“I know.” I couldn’t stop crying. 

“You know that’s why your punishment continued?” 

I nodded, “Yes.” 

“Do you think it’s over now?” 

I paused. _Dear god, what the fuck else could he possibly do to me?_ Finally, I mumbled, “No.” 

“You’re right.” 

I whimpered. 

He laid me on my stomach in our bedroom and proceeded to spank me with a paddle. I lost count around 25 but I wouldn’t be surprised if he went to 50. Each one hurt worse than the one before. After hours of Sybian use, my downstairs was feeling raw. The paddle’s slaps added to the pain, and each hit only added more. By the time he was done, I still hadn’t stopped sobbing. Honestly, I was surprised I still had tears left. 

He put the paddle away and came back with massage oil. Then he gently rubbed the oil into my ass cheeks, soothing away the pain with his touch. It felt really good, but I still couldn’t stop crying. When he was done massaging me, he brought me into the bathroom and filled the jacuzzi tub, climbing in with me after he’d helped me inside. I hadn’t used the tub since he’d killed me in it, but this experience made up for the last one. As I cried, he gently washed away the sweat and juices from my body, rubbing me down with a soapy loofah. Then he tipped my head back and got my hair wet, washing my long locks and scrubbing my roots with his fingertips. All in all, he spent probably half an hour gently bathing me. He’d never been so tender with me before. 

I still hadn’t stopped crying when he helped me from the tub and started toweling me off. It wasn’t until he’d gotten me into bed, safely wrapped in his arms, that he finally spoke again, “I don’t like punishing you.” 

“I know..” I was sniffle sobbing, unable to control my breathing. 

“Please stop crying.” he sounded so sad. 

“I can’t,” I wept. “I’m trying. I’ve been trying. It just won’t stop.” 

He held me for a long time, rubbing his hands down my back and making other such soothing gestures. “Are you hungry?” 

I hadn’t eaten lunch and it was around dinner time. But I shook my head. I couldn’t bear to think about eating when Frankie was dead. 

“Want to watch something?” 

I shook my head again, “You can put something on if you want, though.” 

“What I want is for you to be ok.” 

“That’s not gonna happen for a long time, Puddin’.” All I wanted in that moment was to stop crying and sleep. _At least when I’m_ _sleeping_ _I don’t have to be aware that he’s gone._

“Talk to me, princess.” 

“There’s nothing to say. You killed my only friend. You killed the only person that cared about me besides you.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to go that way.” 

“No. I was supposed to kill him. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” 

“I wanted your obedience.” 

“And I couldn’t give it.” 

“You could have.” 

“Asking me to kill Frankie was like asking me to kill Mama.” 

He paused, understanding fully what that meant, “Oh, Pumpkin. My love. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 

This apology was one hundred percent real. His arms drew me closer to him and I knew he felt just horrible about the whole thing. With a sigh, he rolled over and grabbed his phone. ”Your punishment is over, my love. I can’t do this anymore.” 

He tapped for a little while and then left the room. When he came back, he had my blue sweats and helped me into them. I didn’t want to get dressed. I didn’t want to leave the bedroom. I wanted to curl up and die. _I live for my_ _Puddin_ _’, but right now I just don’t want to._

_“_ Come on, Pumpkin. Come with me.” He took my hand and pulled me behind him, “Jonny’s bringing dinner.” 

“I told you I’m not hungry.” 

“I know. But you will be.” He led me to the TV room and settled me on the couch, going into the kitchen and coming back with two crystal glasses of grape soda, my favorite, which he placed on the coffee table before me. Then he sat down next to me, taking my hand and rubbing the back with his thumb. _He’s trying so hard to comfort me. I feel bad it isn’t working._

After flicking through the channels for a bit, he stopped at some silly cartoon. Something that usually made me laugh. But I didn’t feel much like laughing, and didn’t see the humor in things the way I used to. We watched until the elevator dinged. 

“Jonny’s here. Go help him with the food.” 

“But, Puddin’ -” 

“No buts. Off you go.” 

I wandered out of the TV room with melancholia. But when I rounded the corner and saw the elevator I screamed. My legs threw me forward and I jumped into his arms so hard he dropped the food he was carrying, “FRANKIE!” 

I kissed him all over his face, “You’re alive! You’re _alive_!” 

“I was pretty shocked about it too.” 

“Blanks,” said Jonny as he picked up the bag Frankie had dropped. As if that explained everything. 

But it did. Part of my punishment was proving that I would obey. And I failed. Part of my punishment was believing Frankie was dead. And I took it so hard, Daddy couldn’t bear to see me so hurt. He ended my final punishment early to make me happy. 

The rest of the evening was the four of us just hanging out. My relief over Frankie being alive made me joyous and Puddin’ smiled for the rest of the night. 


	38. Chapter 38

J sent me to an amazing spa today. More aftercare from my punishment. He must have booked every treatment they had because I was there pretty much all day. I had another massage, a glorious facial, exfoliating manicure and pedicure, I sat in one of those mud baths, had a detoxifying body mask followed by a hydrating body wrap, a salt and oil scrub that exfoliated my skin, and even had my hair trimmed and colored. I chose to do what they called “fashion” colors and picked pink and blue – pink on the lower half of my right side and blue on the lower half of my left. They finished my treatments with hair styling and makeup application. By the time they were done, I felt absolutely gorgeous. My body thrummed happily from the treatments; I felt like I was glowing. 

After getting back to the Penthouse, J gave me a beautiful sparkly black dress with matching pumps. Then he told me we were going out. 

“Back to the Smile and Grin?” 

“Not tonight,” he shook his head. “Tonight, we go to the Black Mask Club.” 

“What’s that.” 

“Roman’s place.” At my quizzical look, he continued, “Roman Sionis, son of Charles Sionis, who runs Janus Corporation.” 

“Like Janus Cosmetics?” 

He nodded and I frowned, “Their stuff is shit.” 

He cackled, “I’ll be sure to tell Roman that.” 

I couldn’t convince J to let me drive us in the Quinnmobile. 

“I drive,” he said. 

“You let Jonny drive you.” 

“That’s Jonny.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You sayin’ I’m a bad driver?” 

“I’m not the one who said it.” he grinned. 

I scowled. “I’m not a bad driver!” 

“According to Frankie -” 

I shrieked, cutting him off, “ _Frankie_ said I can’t drive?!” 

He laughed again while I fumed. “He said you’re crazy behind the wheel.” 

“Oh, well that’s different. … I’m crazy everywhere.” 

We left for the club and J drove as madly as he could. Point taken, Puddin’. Once again, he parked in a RESERVED space and ignored the bouncers. Everyone knew who he was, and everyone knew he didn’t follow the rules. The Joker didn’t pay to enter your establishment. If anything, you paid him for the honor of his presence. Not that I think anyone’s actually paid Mistah J to show up somewhere. Now that I think about it, I don’t think you could come up with enough money to get him to go somewhere he didn’t want to go. 

The inside of the Black Mask Club was swanky, but not as opulent as the Smile and Grin. Some of it was weird. Booths and head statues, couches in the middle of the floor, two massive sculptures that each depicted a hand around an eye. J led me to a booth where Frankie and Jonny were already waiting. I think J sends them ahead to scope out the situation and make sure we’re not walking into trouble because if we’re not showing up with them, they’re always the first ones to get where we’re going. 

Someone delivered a round of shots when we sat down and it wasn’t long before the club’s owner himself came over to our table. 

“The Joker!” he greeted, opening his arms as if putting Daddy on display. “I’d heard you were out. Welcome back to my little establishment.” 

“Roman.” 

“And who is your guest?” 

J smiled then, “This is my Harley Quinn.” 

“Very nice to meet you, Miss Quinn.” 

“Right back at ya, Romy.” Sionis’s smile faltered, “Hey, are you involved in your dad’s company at all?” 

His frown flashed for a mere second before it disappeared, “It’s a family business.” 

“Well, you gotta get some better developers or whatever cuz your makeup is drugstore bullshit.” 

“Yes... well...” Roman clearly wanted out of that conversation so he changed the subject, “What do you think of my little bird?” 

“Bird?” I asked, but Roman was already turning to the stage where a beautiful woman with partially braided hair was singing. “Oh, damn, I thought that was piped in.” 

He watched her for a long moment, a blissful smile on his face. Then he turned back to me, “Well?” 

“She’s pretty.” 

“That’s it?” 

“You need more?” J’s eyes glittered. 

“Of course not, of course not.” 

I put my hand on Puddin’s leg, “She has a beautiful voice.” 

The smile was back on Roman’s face, “Doesn’t she just? So good to see you both, but if you don’t mind, I need to see the gentleman across the way.” 

J nodded his permission and Roman walked away to another booth. I sent Frankie to get more shots and turned to my daddy, “I can take care’a myself ya know.” 

“As long as I’m around, that’s my job.” 

The little girl in my head squealed,  _Daddy swears to take care of me._ I felt safe, as I always do with him. 

Frankie and Jonny kept the drinks flowing all evening and as the hours grew later, the club changed into more of a nightclub. The singer stepped down from the stage and a DJ started playing dance music. People swarmed to the spaces between booths and couches, some even standing in the booths they occupied and bodies started gyrating to the music. I wanted to dance, but J had no interest, so I went by myself. 

I moved to the beat, my arms up in the air as I spun and twirled. Down my fingers moved, into my hair as my hips swayed. Further down they went as they splayed across my body. At first, I stayed in front of the booth where Daddy could watch me. But I was soon swept up in the sea of people moving about the floor. I made my own loop, never stopping my dancing as I circled the room. 

I was definitely drunk, and when I saw a double shot sitting by its lonesome, I grabbed it and downed it one motion. The drunk girl that the shot actually belonged to wasn’t impressed, to say the least. 

“Hey! What the fuck?!” 

I shrugged, “I was thirsty.” 

“That was mine, bitch!” She clambered across her friend and out of the booth to face me. 

“I can always puke it up for you.” I mimicked retching to prove my point. 

“Or you can get me another one,” she fumed. 

“Or you can just fuck off.” I rolled my eyes. We were pretty much yelling at each other over the music. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

I grinned maliciously, “Everything.” 

She didn’t seem to pick up on the danger in my expression, “Just get me another drink, and we’ll call it even, ok, bitch?” 

I shook my head, “Oh, no, not ok.” and then I shoved her, back into the booth and hard enough to knock down her friend, who was still dancing on the seat. 

She screamed in rage and launched herself up, throwing herself at me. I barely kept us from tumbling to the floor as she collided with me and I shoved her again. Then I scratched her, four long swipes from my nails etched across her face. She shrieked and punched me. I stumbled backward and into Frankie, who looked absolutely murderous. 

But his expression didn’t hold a candle to my J’s. They’d walked over quietly, the three of them. J had his custom Colt Gold Cup Trophy out and aimed it at the girl’s head. He didn’t say a word, just stared. She began shaking under his gaze. 

I hadn’t noticed the music stopped until I heard murmurs from the crowd. 

“Oh shit.” 

“It’s the Joker.” 

“He’s gonna kill her.” 

“Is that Janelle?” 

“Who’s the other girl? The one with the hair?” 

“What did she do?” 

“What’s happening?” 

“He’s gonna kill her.” 

“Holy shit, it’s the Joker.” 

I looked from girl to Daddy and back with an absolutely wicked grin, “No one’s ever accused ya of being smart, huh?” 

She couldn’t tear her brown eyes from his crystal blue ones. She couldn’t even formulate sentences. I giggled, “See, I’m with him. _He’s_ my boyfriend. That means I do whatever the fuck I want and you don’t do shit about it, understand?” 

She nodded as she swallowed hard. I patted her cheek softly, “Good. That’s a good girl. Now sit down and don’t bother me again, yeah?” 

I grabbed another shot off the table and knocked it back, just make sure my point was driven home. The girl sat down heavily in the booth, still never tearing her eyes away from the Joker. I put my hand on his arm just as Sionis came over. 

It took a bit of silent coaxing from me to get him to lower the gun, but as J put it back in its holster, Roman called out to everyone, “Everything’s fine, everything’s fine. Come on, it’s a party! Let’s get the music going! Dance!” 

The beat began to play again and people slowly went back to their dancing. It didn’t take me a second to settle back into the groove of the music and I started bopping around again as Roman and Daddy talked quietly for a moment. I grabbed Frankie and laughed, “Dance with me!” 

“I’m not much of a dancer, Harley.” 

“Aw, c’mon, Frankie. Puddin’ won’t dance. Please? _Pleeeaaaase_?” 

He smiled and shook his head, “Ok, Harley. Ok.” 

I don’t know why he’d said he couldn't dance; he was really good! He matched my movements in a style all his own and looked good doing it. We had a lot of fun dancing together and I didn’t give another thought to the girl I’d fought with. 


	39. Chapter 39

Tommy came over yesterday morning and did two more tattoos for me. One is a cuff of red and black diamonds that goes around my right forearm and the other reads “Daddy’s Lil Monster” in flowing script over my heart. After wrapping those up in clear plastic I found my harlequin suit and got dressed, once again painting my face and putting on the jester cowl. Then I drove the Quinnmobile to the Toybox. Frankie had a few more friends from my list brought in. Today, I worked with Melinda. 

When I walked into the bare room, she was already strung up in a Palestinian Hanging. She was hung by her arms which were behind her head. The position dislocates the shoulders and makes it very hard for people to breathe. And after all the vehemence she’d poured on my head, she deserves to struggle to breathe. 

“Melinda Johannsen. So good of you to be here today.” 

“Who are you?” 

“Aw, don’t you recognize me, Auntie?” 

She paused a moment, then looked at me with horror, “Harleen?” 

“Not anymore. I’m Harley.” 

“What … what are you doing?” 

“Simple. I’m going to kill you.” 

Her eyes widened, “It was you. You killed my father!” 

“Yep. I beat him bloody.” 

“You monster!” 

“Yep.” I pointed to my jawbone, “Always was Rotten, wasn’t I, Auntie?” 

She wordlessly shrieked at me. Seemed she wasn’t at the hard to breathe stage yet. 

“Then again, maybe I wouldn’t have been if you’d have bothered to show me any kindness. Did you ever stop to think about what you all were doing to me?” 

“What we did doesn’t deserve murder!” 

“What you did made me _this_. So, whatever I do, wherever I go, whoever I kill … it’s all your fault. Yours and the others. You molded your children into tiny beings of hate and now you wonder where you went wrong.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with my children.” 

“Sure, Auntie. Keep telling yourself that.” 

Oscar brought in a cat o’nine tails and Melinda yelped in terror. “What do you think, Ozzy? Shirt on or off?” 

“That’ll tear through her shirt like nothing’s there.” 

I nodded, “You’re right, Ozzy. Cut the shirt off her.” 

It was more demeaning to be half-naked. He left for a moment and came back with a buck knife. He made quick work of the shirt, slicing it away from her flesh and even nicking her once. She was weeping by the time he was done. 

“Please don’t do this.” 

“How many times do you think I said those words? How many nights do you think I begged for some form of love?” 

“You never said anything.” 

“Not to you. Never to those who were abusing me.” I picked up the cat o’nine tails and let the whips drag on the floor as I walked behind her. She sobbed; the anticipation more terrifying than the pain of being hit. 

The first lash brought welts and long streaks of blood across her back. Again, I whipped her, drawing out more evidence of my torture. With every lash of the whips, she shrieked and cried, begging me to stop. But they never did, even when it was evident how much they were hurting me. So why should I? 

Before I was done, she stopped all her sounds and hung limply. I hit her twice more before going to investigate and found that the bitch had died. Furiously, I screamed. She wasn’t supposed to be dead yet. I’d had so much more planned for her. Minimum a week of daily plans and she fucking died. I took the knife Ozzy had left and began stabbing the corpse. 

“You fucking bitch, you _fucking_ bitch!” I stabbed her again and again, pouring all my rage into each blow, “Not supposed to be dead, fucking cunt! _You stole from me_! Stole my plans. Stole my revenge. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, cunt!!” 

I threw the knife to the floor and screamed again. _Probably had a heart attack. But she’s young for it._

I wasn’t supposed to move on to my cousin yet. She was supposed to stay in the cold room for a few days before I saw her. But maybe it was time to bring her out and have some fun. 

Before I could decide Jonny showed up and told me that J had more of his own plans going on that night. 

“He wants you with him, in the bulletproof thing.” 

“I guess I need to change then, don’t I?” 

He followed me out of the Toybox and I drove us back to the high rise. After I changed, I asked Jonny what the plan was for that evening. 

“The shooting stations.” 

I lit up, “I want a sniper rifle!” 

Jonny chuckled, “I’m sure he’ll be fine with that. Have you used one? There’s a specific way you need to shoot and I don’t know if it will really work out with what he’s got going on.” 

“I’ll be fine. I wanna watch heads explode!” 

_DING_ went the elevator and soon J strode into the kitchen, “Hello, beautiful.” 

“Hiya, Puddin’!” 

“You ready to go?” 

“I want a sniper rifle!” 

He laughed the laugh that I love and drew me into his arms, “Whatever your little heart desires, Pumpkin.” 

Frankie met us at the silver Audi A8 L W12, where he was loading the trunk with weapons. Jonny got in the driver’s seat and J slipped into the front passenger side. Frankie and I climbed into the back and we were on our way. 

“We still gonna be across from the police station?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. I wanna shoot some piggies.” I snorted like a pig and Frankie laughed. 

Once we were set up on the roof of the building across from Gotham Police Station, Jonny radioed the rest of the guys. 

“Team 4, you’re a go.” 

Somewhere in Gotham, a group of our guys started shooting random citizens. The other groups were gathered in strategic locations. One infiltrating the local TV station so it would broadcast everywhere that the Joker was attacking Gotham. It was always easy to distinguish our boys because they wore extravagant and sometimes silly costumes. It was likely that team 4 was at the TV station. J wanted the Bat on his trail, but not close enough we could get caught. 

Jonny waited a few minutes and said, “Team 2, go.” 

Where were the other shooting stations? Let me think a minute. It’s been a while since J told me this particular revenge plot. One was at City Hall. Another at Gotham Elementary, where there just happened to be a concert going on this evening. There was the TV station and here, Gotham Police Station. Then there was Gotham Fire Station and Gotham hospital. The last one was in the most expensive hotel in Gotham City. Jonny called out the teams as Frankie helped me get the sniper rifle ready. 

Once the police started streaming out of the station to help the victims, we started our assault. I aimed and missed twice, cursing loudly about it before Jonny came over and placed his arms around me from behind, showing me how to hold it properly. 

“Take three deep breaths and after the last exhale, hold it for 1-3 seconds. That’s your sweet spot for shooting. Squeeze the trigger slowly, don’t jerk it. You want a slow, steady follow through all the way back, so don’t let go after you feel the shot. Once it breaks, you want to continue the squeeze to the rear and then slowly release the trigger to the front. Now, with the kick from the gun, you want it to come straight back at you, so if it kicks at an angle, you’re holding it wrong. … Good. You got him!” 

I squealed happily. Jonny helped me rack another bullet and then moved off the shoot on his own. 

_BAM_

_BAM_

_BAM_

_BAM_

Each shot after Jonny’s teaching hit my target in some way. They weren’t all headshots, but I hit each cop in turn. 

The Bat and Boy Wonder never showed, at least not where we were. Since we’d been the last place to start shooting, the Caped Crusaders went to the TV station first. By the time they made it through all the shooting stations, we were long gone. The news was reporting on our murder spree by the time we got home. I don’t know how many people died, but I know it was a lot. J wanted to hurt Batman with his inability to do anything to save the people of Gotham. Even if he shut down one of our teams, the rest were still wreaking havoc. The loss of life was cataclysmic, and Batman would blame himself. Win/win. 


	40. Chapter 40

Yesterday, J brought me to the abandoned carnival, Amusement Mile. He had taken it over as one of his headquarters, specifically the rundown Funhouse. When I mentioned wanting to fix it up, he told me he would give me access to whatever funds I needed in order to make it look the way I wanted it to. I’m excited to decorate. I’ve never really done it before. The dorm rooms and apartments I’ve lived in have always had the caveat that there could be no permanent changes, including wall color. But here I could explore and play with color and create exactly the space I saw in my head. It would be bright and crazy. Just like me. 

He brought me upstairs to a tower room and showed me a cabinet of weapons. It was a simple space, kind of dingy, but I have plans for it. In the tower room, he’d had Tommy set up a workspace. I was still recovering from my tattoos the previous day, so I wasn’t sure what we were doing there. 

“Are you getting a tattoo, Puddin’?” 

“Tommy’s gonna teach you how to do it.” 

I squealed excitedly and rushed to Tommy, grabbing him in my arms and planting a kiss on his mouth. “This is gonna be fun!” my eyes shone brightly. 

Once over his shock, Tommy set me up with a tattoo gun and a grapefruit. The buzzing instrument felt very odd at first but I quickly got over it. I practiced for hours until I could follow a line smoothly. I must have gone through a grocery stand full of fruit. Tommy had me working with bananas, oranges, melons, apples, and the grapefruit I already mentioned. The three of us chatted while I worked, J eventually growing quiet and tapping on his phone. 

After a while, Iggy showed up. Tommy set up a simple linework tattoo on his forearm and then looked to me. 

“What, you want your tattoo gun back?” 

“You’re gonna do it, Pumpkin Pie,” said J. 

“What? Me?” I looked at Iggy then over at Mistah J, “I’m not ready for people.” 

“Sure, you are,” J waved a hand. “You’ll do fine. And if you don’t, well Iggy doesn’t mind, do you, Iggy?” 

“Not at all, boss.” 

“Are you sure about this?” I asked the henchman. 

“Of course, he is,” answered J. 

With a shrug, I sat down to work. It didn’t take long since it was just a number of short lines, and when I was done, I was pretty impressed with my handiwork. Tommy set up colors in little cups. 

“Ok, so now we’re gonna switch needles.” Tommy held out his hand for the tattoo gun and showed me how to change the liner needle for a shader. Then he walked me through coloring in the tattoo as I worked. Iggy was a champ, and never even twitched a muscle. 

When I was done, I massaged my hand, the vibrations still riding my nervous system. Even if we weren’t really doing anything together, it was nice having my daddy with me all day. He stood up when Iggy left and walked over to us, “My turn.” 

“What?!” 

“I want you to tattoo me.” 

“No! I don’t wanna mess up.” 

“You won’t.” 

“This is my first day! Of course, I will.” 

“I trust you.” 

_How the fuck am I supposed to say no to that?_ He had me over a barrel and he knew it. 

“Well, what do you want?” 

“Whatever you want to give me.” 

I sighed, “You can’t give me the tiniest hint on what I could do?” 

He shrugged, “I want what you want to give me.” 

I looked to Tommy, but he was no help. Then I knew the perfect thing to do. 

“Take off your pants,” I ordered. It was fun giving an order for once. J’s smirk told me I might pay for that later but he did what I said. “Now lay down on your stomach.” 

I whispered to Tommy what I wanted to do and his eyes widened. “You sure?” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

It took a while to get the right stencil. But once that was finally situated, I walked over to Puddin’ and gripped the top of his boxer briefs. “What are you doing?” he asked as I pulled them below his ass cheeks. 

“Giving you the tattoo I wanna give you. … Don’cha trust me?” 

He gave me an amused yet pissed off look. I was probably going to definitely pay for that later. Tommy laid the stencil for me and I got to work. Whenever Tommy needed to help me, he spoke quietly enough that J wouldn’t know what it was. I wanted the tattoo to be a surprise. It took a few hours, but when I was done, I was damned proud of my work. 

“Eeeeeeee … wanna see? Wanna see?” I was so excited I was jumping around. 

Tommy snapped a photo and walked around the table to show it to J. There, in all its glory, was my kiss on his ass. We’d used my lip print to make the stencil. Daddy laughed uproariously. I knew he would like it! Still, when we got home, he paddled me on the left ass cheek only – the same side he had his new tattoo.  _I knew there was a reason I love sassing him._

Today I spent the day in my studio. Frankie’s learned to bring things to entertain himself, so he was working on his iPad while I danced. Jenni was sick today, so it was just me and Triss. She joined me in the air and even worked on the Gotham streets section of the studio with me. She could definitely keep up with us if we were on the run. 

We went back to the Smile and Grin tonight because Jonny said there was another of J’s men that wanted to pay respects. Like Servis, he had a stupid name – Ca$h Money. In case anyone couldn’t guess, he’s a money launderer. _Why are they all so dumb?_

He joined us in the VIP area and even knew who I was. “J, so good to see you out. Harley,” he greeted. 

“Ca$h Money.” J drawled, “I hear you’ve been doing well.” 

“I’ve grown some of the business. Not by much, but enough to see a difference in profit.” 

“I hear you were working with Charge.” 

“We’ll have him replaced in no time. There’s a couple guys we’re looking at.” 

“Anyone I should know about?” 

“Well, there’s a Puerto Rican named Abuelito and two others. One’s name is Monster T and I don’t remember the other guy.” 

“Little Grandpa? There’s a guy out there calling himself Little Grandpa?” I made a face of distaste. 

“Stick with Monster T,” said J, and Money nodded. 

“You got it, boss. He’ll be promoted tomorrow.” 

Benny sent over a round of drinks and I told J I wanted to learn how to make a Harley Quinn. 

“You throw a psychiatrist in a vat of chemicals that would kill most people. Ha ha haaaaa.” 

I giggled yet rolled my eyes, “You know I mean the drink.” 

I walked over to the bar, sipping my drink as I went. When I got to Benny, I told him what I wanted and he quickly showed me how to whip one up. A double shot of peach juice, a shot of vanilla vodka, one shot of silver rum, a shot of blue Curaçao, and a splash of sweet sparkling wine. It’s delicious. I’d finished my first while watching him make one, then I made one myself, following his instructions. How long to shake with ice, when to strain into a chilled martini glass. I wound up bringing both drinks back to the booth with me, sipping on one while I went. 

“Look, I made one!” I showed Frankie, “You want it?” 

He shook his head with a grin and I shrugged as I passed him, “Look, Puddin’!” 

J patted the seat next to him and I placed the drinks on the table before perching in the booth beside him. 

“You are my reward for Ca$h, Pumpkin. You’re his for the evening.” 

I let my eyes rake over him, appraising. He was hot as hell. Average height, fawn brown skin, gorgeous green eyes, beautiful facial structure, and a muscled body. 

“Mmmm ... I feel like I’m the one being rewarded.” I stood up and walked over to him, climbing onto his lap, “You want me?” 

“Hell, yes.” 

I kissed him heartily. From behind me, I heard Puddin’s breathing deepen; he loves watching me with other people. I parted my lips and took Ca$h’s tongue in my mouth, dancing mine against his. My hands slid down his face and to his chest, where my fingers splayed out to feel him. Down further they went until I was pulling at the button on his jeans.  _I’m horny. Give me what I want._

He didn’t need convincing. He moved me off him so he could pull down his pants. I quickly dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth, swiping my tongue over his most sensitive place. Slowly I slid my mouth up and down his shaft, coating him in my spit. Daddy likes messy blow jobs, so that’s what I’ve grown used to. 

_I love the feeling of a cock hitting my throat._

I sucked his entire length into my mouth, proving to myself that he was smaller than J – I can't fit his entire cock in my mouth – but he wasn’t so small I had to worry about not feeling him. I’d say Money’s average, J is a perfect larger than average, and Frankie is almost too damn big. Jonny falls somewhere between Ca$h and J. 

He ran his fingers through my hair, stopping while his hands still rested atop my head and slowly began guiding me. Gradually he moved me faster, hitting the back of my throat repeatedly until I had him thoroughly coated in a mess of saliva. I stood up from the floor and wriggled out of my thong before climbing back on his lap. I grabbed him and quickly slipped him inside, moaning when I slid all the way down. I really have turned into a sex freak. I love sex, no matter who I’m with. I love sex, even when it’s not with perfection. No one feels as good as my Daddy, no one fits me the way he does or moves his body with mine the way that he can. But I’ve learned to enjoy it in all forms. 

I tossed my head back as I started to bounce, my hands on his shoulders. My fingers crept up to either side of his neck and I kissed him again, pulling him close to me. Before long, my breaths came in blissful gasps and I could feel my first orgasm building. I broke the kiss to moan out loud as I crested the wave of pleasure. His hands were at my hips, gripping tight yet letting me move as I wanted to. I buried my fingers in his hair and pulled against the roots as I slid my hungry cunt up and down his shaft, loving every second. He didn’t seem to like me pulling his hair, but he never said a word against it. 

I felt a sharp yank on my hair and my head snapped backward, far enough that I could see my Puddin’ watching me. He released my hair and placed a hand on my cheek, bending forward to kiss my lips upside down. 

“Mmmmmm,” I groaned against his mouth, my hips never slowing in their movements. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth and nibbled lightly before releasing me and sitting back. My focus returned to Money and I bucked faster. 

His head rocked back, resting on the top of the booth and I leaned down to bite his neck. I wanted to leave a mark, my mark, on one of J’s men. I sucked hard, ensuring there would be a deep bruise when we were done. 

We changed to a doggy style position, me on my hands and knees on the booth, him standing behind me. He thrust into me, holding my hips and jackhammering wildly. I couldn’t quiet my voice and soon I was yelling, crying out with every smack of his body against mine. It was just so good. 

No one dared come over, no one dared try to take a peek. With J merely a spectator, everyone knew he would see and be aware of any snooping glance. No one had the guts to face J just to catch a glimpse of me with Money. 

We fucked through a number of songs, every so often I would explode and gush and make a generalized mess. But Ca$h never slowed. If anything, he only moved faster, his grunts growing louder as he drew closer to orgasm. He pulled out just before he came and I slumped forward, spent after my fuck session. Lucky for him he didn’t come _on_ me, because I fucking hate that, instead, finishing on the booth behind me. 

He was breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. After I turned over, I climbed off the booth and moved to sit on Daddy’s lap. He kissed me passionately, moaning against my mouth, and pulling me as close to him as he could. His tongue swirled against mine, his arm holding me up as I was too tired to sit up completely by myself. Cumming successively tends to take a lot out of me. 

J broke the kiss and nodded once to Money, who was fixing his pants. Jonny guided him away from us, his part now over. We left shortly after Ca$h did, going back home and climbing into bed together. J turned on the TV and I wrote this entry, both of us relaxing after the events of the day. 


	41. Chapter 41

I should have known Daddy would want his turn. I had just drifted off to sleep when I felt him roll me onto my back and climb on top of me. He entered me quickly, thrusting his entire length inside in one motion. Thick fingers wrapped around my neck, squeezing harshly and I opened my eyes to look at him.

“You were a very good little girl tonight.”

“ Mmmm ,” was the only reply I could make. 

“I enjoyed watching you with him, Pumpkin.” He held my neck so tightly I could barely pass oxygen through my throat and I loved the pressure. His lips lowered to meet mine and he continued to pump in and out of me. “I love to see you in your element. My Queen.”

His fingers tightened and my eyelids fluttered under the intense pleasure of his grip. I love this feeling – his hands on my throat, his squeeze that blocks all oxygen. He held me so long I felt that trippy cloud descending and that’s when he released me, allowing that slam of air to fill my lungs and oxygen to hit my brain and drawing out a cry as I felt my first orgasm hit me. 

“There’s my good girl.”

“Oh, Daddy,” I groaned as another climax began building in me. He knows how to make me stream in a way that no one else can. Coming down from the high is always an impossibility with him. 

It’s the submission. With everyone else I take charge - I’m in control, even when I let them think they’re running things. But submitting to my Daddy is the best. I let him take me, demand my obedience, engage in breath play. We’ve never made a safe word, because I know we don’t need one. My submission allows for my death. I’ve done it once and I would do it again. I’ve lost the attitude I felt after my drowning. The little girl and the monster enjoyed it so much, they want it again. I think I want it again. At the very least, I wouldn’t mind. If that’s what he wants, if he requires the end of my life, I give it freely. My submission allows for blood play, though disappointingly he hasn’t used a knife on me yet. He could burn me, beat me bloody, and I would cum from the pain. My submission gives me life.

He is everything.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the feeling of his skin on mine, his cock thrusting in and out of my cunt, his breath on my face as he bent to kiss me. And when he did, he tightened his grip again, squeezing viciously. Unbidden, my throat gurgled. He gave a little shake to my head, just violently enough to really feel amazing. 

When he  spoke, it was in a rage, “I’m not supposed to love you.”

I opened my eyes and looked into his. And I communicated everything he needed to hear.

_ But you do. And that’s ok. _

_ You give me life, take it if you wish. _

_ I wasn’t supposed to love you either. _

The transference wasn’t just on his part back at the asylum. I was just as deep in it as he had been, and my obsession started long before his did. My research into the Joker started before he became my patient. It started as soon as he’d arrived in  Arkham . I spent nearly six months scouring every corner of the internet and printed word about him. I don’t know what it was that drew me so intensely; maybe my heart recognized its other half. Maybe we’ve always been fated, destined to love and fight and unite against the world. Maybe he was right when he said he would find me in every universe and make me his. Maybe there are a million versions of Earth, and we’re together in all of them. 

He released my neck completely, air slamming into my lungs once again. I sucked in harshly and he covered my mouth with his, kissing me roughly. His tongue thrust into my mouth, dancing with mine and drawing it into his. His pounding grew harsher and he fucked me ruthlessly, sucking on my tongue before swirling his against it again. 

Again and again I gushed my climax, feeling delirious from the bliss. He wanted it rough, gripping my tits and twisting viciously before grabbing tightly and pulling on them. I moaned, the pain only serving to drive me higher. And then he slapped me so hard I saw stars. It was glorious, the pain that traveled down my spine to coil in my cunt. Everything I could ever want and more. He slapped me again and I moaned.

I wrapped my arms around him and dug my nails into his back, drawing them down like claws. His head rocked back and he came with a loud growl. But he didn’t stop. He just kept fucking me. 

“Roll over,” he ordered, pulling out and shoving my legs to the side, slapping my thigh twice as he did. I followed his instruction quickly and he was thrusting into me again, in and out wildly.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and shoved my head into the bed, pushing down harshly. It felt so good, the pressure on my skull, knowing it was what he wanted. With his other hand he scratched down my back like I had done to him. I came hard, the wet squelching sounding louder with each orgasm. I felt my juices dripping down my thighs and my eyes rolled back in my head, the lids closing automatically. He scratched me again, still pressing me into the bed. I don’t know how long we stayed that way, him pounding my cervix, my cries of euphoria filling our room and probably the entirety of the Penthouse. My mouth grew dry from my gasps and groans and he began to quicken his thrusts even more. He yanked on my hair savagely and we came together. 

He dropped onto me, the both of us sweaty and gulping air, trying to slow the overzealous beating of our hearts. 

When he rolled off me, I turned on my side, facing him. I shifted closer, placing my forehead against his. “I love you,” I whispered.

He paused, just long enough to make me think he wasn’t going to answer. But then he slowly did, “I love you too, Pumpkin.”


	42. Chapter 42

I went back to the Toybox this morning. It was time to work with Laurie. She’d been kept in the cold room – a small 10x10 room with an air conditioner going full blast. Not cold enough to freeze a body, but cold enough to be more than just uncomfortable. She was shivering when Lu brought her into the medieval torture room. I liked the ambiance in there. 

Unlike everyone else, she recognized me immediately, “Harleen?!”

“Harley,” I corrected. 

“What am I doing here?”

“Same thing as Auntie Melinda. You’re here to die.”

“Melinda’s dead?” her mouth dropped open in horror. 

“She wasn’t supposed to be. Not yet anyways.”

“It was her heart, wasn’t it?” Laurie shivered and shook. “She has a bad heart.”

“Had. But it was probably her heart ... She didn’t like the cat o’nine tails I was using on her.”

“Oh my god … How could you?”

“Do you really need to ask?” my expression turned hard and bitter, “What do you think happens to a person when the only family they have treats them like a leper?

“We weren’t that bad...”

“Laurie, I hate liars. Like, smash their brains in with the mallet I used to kill Grandpa  kinda hate. So, for your benefit and mine, don’t lie to me.”

“We were just kids.”

“So was I,” I snapped, glowering, “You think being children excuses what you did?”

“Please, Harley. Please forgive me.”

I rolled my eyes, “There’s no forgiveness for people like you. I’m going to slaughter every last member of our family. I’m going to end the Nelson line.”

“You can’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do!” I roared, “Don’t you fucking dare tell me what to do ever again. I did everything you all asked and still you spat on me.”

“We didn’t mean it.”

I picked up a set of brass knuckles and slipped them on like a glove. Then I punched her until I shattered her eye socket. “I told you not to lie!”

She was weeping, still shaking from the cold.

“I don’t even want to see you right now.”  ~~_See. See. Make it so she can’t see._ ~~ Before I even thought about it, I reached into the eye with the broken socket, making her scream. Then I grasped and pulled. Yanking out the eye and then the optic nerve, the wails that poured from her mouth grew to terrified, pain-filled shrieking that filled the room. I threw the eyeball to the ground and stomped on it, the  _ SQUISH _ beneath my foot still audible over her screams. “Don’t want you to see me either.”

Then I poked out her other eye. 

“NOOO,” she yelled, sobbing as much as she could with blood pouring from her eye sockets, “Oh god, whyyyyy?”

“You know why, cunt!”  _ Are you deaf or just stupid? _ “Don’t want you looking at me.”

~~_Kill her. End her now._ _Killll_ _._ ~~

Part of me wanted to. End her miserable little life. But it would be more fun to let her suffer longer. 

“Luey!!”

He walked in, ”Yeah, Harley?”

“Get the doctor. I want Laurie patched up and put back in the cold room.”

“Nooooo,” she wailed.

“What, you  wanna die now?”

“Just put me out of my misery. I won’t see it coming.”

I grinned wickedly then, leaning down in front of her, “And now you’ll never know when it’s coming. You think I’m  gonna let you off that easily? No, no, dear cousin. Your misery is the whole point.”

She screamed when Lu touched her, jerking away from him, but he gripped her tightly and dragged her out of the room. I followed him out, watching when he turned down the hall towards the cold room. I found Jimmy and told him to bring out my uncle.

Tom Marcus was Laurie’s father and he was going to watch what had just happened to his child. I was recording every last second of my family’s torture and deaths. Jimmy brought Uncle Tom into the gun room, where I’d had them set up a TV with a cable hookup for the cameras. He sat him down and tied him to the chair while I waited in the foyer area of the Toybox. Then Jimmy played the footage taken just a few minutes earlier for him. 

I could hear his hollering from all the way in the front. And when the video was  over, I skipped into the room, “Hiya, Uncle Tom!”

“You leave my daughter alone, you hear me!”

“Oh, I hear ya. You’re just not gonna like my answer.”

“Do whatever you want to me, I’ll take it all, just don’t hurt her again.”

“Sorry, that’s not  gonna happen. I mean, I’m  gonna hurt you. I’m  gonna torture you. But I’m not done with her yet.”

Tom struggled against the ropes wildly, “Let her go!”

“Can’t. She’s not dead yet. And don’t worry about Angela and Aunt Judy. They’ll be here soon.”

“You monster! You can’t do this!”

“Yes. I. Can.” I plucked a revolver from the wall and leveled it at him, reveling in the fear in his eyes.

“Please...”

“You bet.” 

_ BLAM _ bullet to the gut.

“Now, if you’re really lucky, Uncle Tom, you’ll bleed out and die before I come back. It’ll be slow. Painful. But if you’re lucky you won’t see my face again. Of course, that also means you’ll never see your family’s faces again either.”

“Harleen...”

“It’s Harley.” I scowled and shot him again, this time in the knee. He screamed so beautifully.

None of them were going to survive, but it was already starting to grow tiresome; answering the same questions over and over again. Oh well. I could do it in order to enact my revenge. 

I wore a slinky red dress to the Smile and Grin this evening. There was another henchman looking to check-in. I never would have guessed the number of people wanting to give their reverence to J, to praise that he was back on the streets. At least this one didn’t have a stupid name – Barry Pantone. I’m not sure exactly what it is that he does for  Puddin ’, but he doesn’t do it anymore.

Idiot was rude to me. We were both in the booth when he came over, my legs tucked up on the seat next to me. He made small talk with J and then just barely glanced my way. I didn’t like how his eyes skipped over my form, as if I wasn’t even there. He was looking at the gold-clad dancer in the glass box behind me. When I turned to look at what he was looking at, I saw the dark-haired Kylie’s body gyrating.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” I asked Barry.

He nodded. I continued, “What is it about her you like?”

“I’ve always been one for brunettes.”

“What’s wrong with blondes?”

“Eh, just not my thing.” by the time he looked back over at me, he realized that he’d fucked up. He’d just said that J’s taste was not to his liking. He’d just insulted the woman on J’s arm, “But, you, you’re -”

“I’m gorgeous.” I nodded. “Beautiful, stunning, exquisite, ravishing, sumptuous … but blonde.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.” I looked over to my daddy, the malice in his gaze making my stomach flip. He was just as upset as I was. I may have been insulted by a stranger, but this was one of J’s men. This was a subordinate telling the King that he’d made a mistake. This was a peasant daring to insult the woman he loves.

He didn’t realize just how big his mistake was until I sidled up to Daddy and dipped my hand below his jacket, coming out with the Colt firmly in my grip. Pantone began to stutter, tripping over his words in his haste to make things right. But it was too late for that. I held out the gun and aimed it at him. He jumped to his feet, making to run. As if he could run anywhere that  Puddin ’ couldn’t track him down. 

He didn’t even make it past Frankie and was shoved back into the booth before he’d taken three steps. I sighed, the gun remaining still in my hand. “Are we done? Or are you still too stuck in stupid to see a way out?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply -”

“ Ya know, I don’t care about your sorry. I don’t care about your shitty ass opinion. And I don’t care about your life. You? You are nothing.” I stood and walked over to him, the gun never straying in its aiming. “You are less than nothing.”

I squeezed the trigger, a bullet embedding in his torso. He slumped back in the booth, breaths coming in wheezing gasps and I’m pretty sure I shot through one of his lungs. “Frankie, take him out back and set him on fire.”

But first I took the watch off his wrist and slid it up my arm to join Servis’s.  _ Better than tally marks on a bedpost. _


	43. Chapter 43

It was back to the Toybox this morning. I couldn’t wait to see if my uncle still lived. But he’d been about twenty years Judy’s senior when they got married, so he was an old man now. He’d died overnight, another early death. I’d so wanted him to see everything that was going to happen to his wife and daughters. Rather than deal with Laurie again, I had Frankie bring out Dave, Melinda’s son. His brother, Chris, was already under a different kind of torture. He was placed in the white room. Everything was white – the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the food trays, and all the food he ingested. The only color he ever saw was white, and it was meant to drive him mad. I’ve read that it’s worked in other situations. We’ll have to see how Chris fares.

Dave was put in the knife room. I wanted quick and easy access to all of my knives. I had him hung in a Palestinian Hanging just as his mother had been. But I took a butcher knife and hamstrung him, slicing through all the tendons in his thighs. He couldn’t support himself with his feet, now completely incapable of walking, and so he hung by his arms completely. Before long he was wheezing, desperate for a full breath of air. 

“Davey. It’s been so long.”

“Who are you?”

“Aw,  don’cha recognize me? Laurie did.”

“You have Laurie? Are you the one that’s been kidnapping my family?”

“No. ... Well, yes. It’s being done on my orders.”

“Why?” his breaths came in subtle gasps.

“Let me give you a name, and you tell me if you can guess. …  Harleen Quinzel.”

“Fuck.”

I laughed, “Ding, ding! You win a prize, motherfucker! Congratulations on not being a total idiot.”

“ Shoulda known you would turn into a homicidal maniac.”

“Only because you all pushed me there. And I jumped in a vat of chemicals.”

“What?”

“Shut up. Let’s see, where was I? You’re not an idiot, good for you … ah, yes. So, you’ve noticed our family members disappearing, have you?”

“Hard to miss.”

“What about your sons, Davey? Have you missed them?”

His eyes widened, “What did you do to my boys?”

I walked forward, up to his face, so I could whisper conspiratorially, “I had them picked up from school. And then I had your wife picked up from home.”

“What did you do?!”

“Don’t worry. They won’t be tortured like the rest of you. Technically, they didn’t do anything to me. But I have to end the Nelson line.  So, they have to die.”

“You bitch! You evil cunt! Stay away from my family!”

“Too late, Davey. I’m pretty sure they’re already dead. I only had them shot, they didn’t feel a thing.”

He began to weep and gasp, “Tell me … you’re lying.”

“I hate liars. Make a habit of not being one.” 

He was barely able to breathe, his shoulders having dislocated and his hanging inducing a pain that didn’t hold a candle to knowing his family was dead. Knowing that soon the rest of his family would be dead.

“None of the kids will be tortured. It’s not their fault they were spawned by pure evil.”

“The only evil ... in this world is you.”

“Aw, thanks, Davey! So sweet of you to say.  Grampie always did say I was Rotten, didn’t he? Rotten to the core, that’s me.”

“You’d murder ... children.”

“Yep. I don’t give a shit about kids. I don’t give a shit about anyone other than -”

“Other than who?”

“You ever hear of the Joker?”

Wide as saucers his eyes grew, “You know him?”

“He’s my boyfriend.” I tugged on one pigtail, “Why do you think I’m so crazy?”

“How the hell did you -”

“It’s a long story. And I’m not here to tell you stories. I’m here to watch you die.”

“You think,” he gasped, “this is  gonna … kill me?”

“I know it is, Davey. Eventually you’re not going to be able to breathe anymore. Or maybe your arms will rip off and you’ll bleed to death. What do you think, do you think that could happen, Davey?”

“Stop … calling … me that.”

“This is what you waste your breath on, Davey? Asking for something you know I’m not gonna do?”

“Why?”

“Have you forgotten our childhood, Davey? Have you forgotten how you and the others tortured me, Davey? Why  _ shouldn’t _ it be my turn?”

“Stop...”

“ Ya know, Davey, I tore out the tongues of my other grandparents. Maybe I’ll do that to you too,  cuz you’re really starting to annoy me. … I know! Let’s check in on Laurie, shall we?”

I clicked the remote for the TV I had set up with live feeds. Frankie was so good I almost had too many family members to rotate through. I showed him Laurie, shivering and weeping in the cold room, thick bandages over her eyes. 

“I ripped her eyes out. Doesn’t she look so much prettier?”

“Monster...”

“Everyone seems to come to that insult, yes. But I don’t mind.” I unzipped my harlequin suit just enough to show off the tattoo over my heart. “I’m proud to be Daddy’s lil Monster.”

“Crazy...”

“Yes, Davey. I’m insane. You’re just realizing this now?” I leaned forward so I could whisper in his ear, “I have Chris, too. Soon I’ll have Jess and your dad. … Did I tell you I killed your mom? Then I stabbed her body about thirty times.”

“What … is wrong … with -”

“Ugh, we’ve covered this already. I’m getting bored.” I poked him, “Can’t you just die now?”

I had an evil idea, one that had already begun hatching earlier in our conversation.  ~~_Riiiiip_ _. Tear. Shred._ ~~ I had Frankie come in and pull Dave higher, so that his feet dangled uselessly, blood still dripping from the wounds in his thighs. Then I had him bring in weights. One by one, we added more weights with thick, heavy chains. They tore his wounds open wider than I thought they’d go. His screaming was deliciously horrible. But I wanted to see his arms rip off.  _ How much weight will it take?  _ ~~_Rip him in half. Blood. Kill._ ~~

It took more weight than we had in house. Frankie sent out guys to get more, but we quickly realized it was going to take more weight than would actually be possible to hang on a body. I screeched in frustration. 

“Frankie, get me a saw.”

He found one quickly and I moved over to my cousin, lowering the blade to his shoulder joint. And then I pushed down and let the metal teeth tear through his skin. It was slow, and it was very bloody. I didn’t make it very far before I was completely impatient. 

“Frankie, get me a chainsaw.”

I don’t know when Dave died. Hell, it could have been before Frankie made it back with the chainsaw. Or while he was showing me how to get it going. But once it was, I sliced through both shoulder joints like a chainsaw through butter. The body dropped with a large  _ CLANG  _ as all the weights dropped with it. Blood streamed from his shoulders onto the floor, growing until both sides connected into a big circle.

I looked over myself, basically looking like Carrie on prom night from all the kickback, and decided it was time for a shower.

“Frankie, drive me home.”

“You got it, boss.”

I raised a brow, “We got some shit to talk about, Frankie.”

I was thankful I hadn’t driven us in the  Quinnmobile that morning, instead getting blood all over the interior of the Bugatti J had driven me home from Frankie’s in. “First off, did you kill the rest of the Johannsens?”

“Dave’s family? Yeah, we took care of them this afternoon.”

“Good. I would have done it myself, but I don’t even care enough to see them die. They’re just loose ends. What happened with Chris’s family?”

“We had to kill our way through a daycare to get to his baby.”

“And?”

“The baby was the first one we got. We still need to nab the rest of them.”

“Well do it quickly, I don’t want anyone getting away. Though I doubt Mrs. Johannsen is going anywhere without her husband and daughter. … How  _ are _ you finding everyone so fast?”

“J’s got a pretty vast information network. You’d think it would just extend across Gotham, but it’s nationwide. There’s a lotta his business that takes place in Gotham, but there’s a whole bunch that’s outside New Jersey.”

“How long you been  workin ’ for Mistah J?”

“About three years now.”

He pulled into the garage and we walked to the speed elevator to the Penthouse, riding it upstairs quickly. I really couldn’t wait to shower. 

“Come with me, I’m not done  talkin ’ to you.” I walked towards the master bathroom, unzipping and removing my harlequin suit as I went. I started up the shower and stepped under the spray as soon as it was warm enough, letting the red tinged water sluice down my skin.

“Explain  somethin ’ to me, Frankie.” I turned to look and saw he was leaning against the triple sink, half sitting on the marble. “You been  workin ’ for Puddin’ three years now. And you’ve known me two weeks, yeah?”

“Sounds about right.”

“What would you do if we both told you to do different things?”  _ He knows how much I hate liars. _

“As long as it wasn’t anything that would get you hurt, I’d follow you.”

“Why?”

“You’re not the only one who hasn’t had many friends since meeting the Joker, Harley.”

I smiled. After a pause, I frowned, “You know you can never tell  Puddin ’ this.”

“Oh, I know.” Frankie shook his head, “He’s killed people for far less than knowing they’d go against his orders.”

“Is it because I fucked you?”

He stopped to think about it, which I actually appreciated. He knows how much I value honesty and while he never made a vow to always be truthful with me, the way that I had to J in Arkham, it looked like he was going to make sure he never lied to me. “No. ... I trust you. Crazy ass that you are.”

I laughed, then asked, “Do you not trust J?”

“Does anyone?”

I nodded, “I do.”

“Hasn’t he killed you once already?”

I nodded again, “He did.”

“And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

Frankie shook his head, “You really are crazy, Harley.”

“Oh, I know. Now get out of here and let me shower in peace.”

I needed to look good because J and I were going to the Black Mask Club again and that began with an extra clean shower and a shave. I had to make sure that I got all the blood off me before I started to get ready for the evening. I wore the soft-pink mini dress I’d stolen from the designer store and did a half pink, half blue makeup look. My hair was left long and smooth and I put on blue heels. Once again, I wore gold to match my daddy, and luckily there were no tussles after we went out this evening. I didn’t get as drunk as I did last time, though I took plenty of other people’s drinks out of impatience. When I was tipsy enough the little girl in me started to come out.

I climbed into the booth where J was sitting and crawled over to him, “Daddy?”

“Pumpkin.”

“I need you to fuck me.” I tried to get in his lap, but he held me off slightly.

“Not here.”

I whined, that little girl whine of a spoiled brat not getting her way. He gave me a look that normally I would have been able to read immediately. But in my semi drunken state it took me a moment. I moved forward and began kissing his mouth, “Please, Daddy? I need you inside me.”

He kissed me deeply, making my pussy throb and flood, and then he gripped my arms and pushed me back until I was sitting, “Not. Here.”

I whined again and he looked to Jonny. They didn’t need words. Jonny was used to predicting J’s needs. He took me by the arm and pulled me from the booth, marching me away.

“Jonny! Stop!”

“This is not the time for your bullshit, Harley.”

“I’ll have you know I’m not on my bullshit right now. But I’ll be glad to let you know when I’m back on it.”

He looked around until he saw Frankie and then dragged me over to him, “Take her out of here.”

“No! I  wanna stay!”

“C’mon, Harley.” 

“What? Frankie, I said no! Frankie!” I stomped my foot like a child and crossed my arms defiantly. “I  wanna stay! And dance! And I  _ need _ to fuck my  _ Daddy _ .”

Jonny looked at Frankie with an expression that brooked no arguments and then leaned down to growl in my ear, “If you pitch a fit and have to be dragged out of here, what kind of punishment do you think you’ll get? For causing a scene? Embarrassing him?”

I scowled at him, “I still wanna stay.”

“And if you were in any way trustworthy, you would be.”

“Hey!”

“C’mon, Harley,” said Frankie, holding out his hand, “Let’s go get ice cream.”

“I want fudge sauce!” and I skipped after him happily. We had to take a cab, since the four of us had gone to the club together, but we found a frozen yogurt place that had all the toppings you could ever think of. I made four different sundaes, all with fudge sauce, and we took another cab back to the high rise. He showed me the way to get in from the street and we nearly spilled one of the cups of frozen yogurt on the way up. I was laughing hysterically when the doors opened, having just barely caught one of my four cups.

“I told you to let me carry them!” Frankie admonished.

“I’ve got it!” I retorted. 

We dumped the cups on the table in the TV room and sat down to sample frozen yogurts and watch cartoons. 


	44. Chapter 44

I’ve been running through family members faster than I thought I would. I just get too excited. The monster in my head starts to take over and she revels in blood and death. She’s desperate, ravenous. When it comes to my family, she wants to execute each and every one. 

Today it was Jess. I don’t want to record what she said, it was nothing new. The same questions, the same shock, the same insults. Was no one else in my family creative? As everyone knows, the ingenuity of my mind is endless. I’ve already come up with more than I ever could have as Harleen. Even after all the things I had heard from my patients, I have delved farther and deeper and darker than anyone else I’ve known. Other than J, that is. My hatred of Jessica Johannsen was so deep I couldn’t even find pleasure in the fact that she was still alone after all this time. No spouse, no children. Just her living off the beaten path in the woods. Frankie said her place looked like the creepy murder house in all the horror movies. 

I gave her what is known as one of the worst forms of torture – the blood eagle. I found it online, during research on what to do with my family members. With the blood eagle, you keep your victim alive while you slice open their back, through the skin and muscle until you expose bone, snip the ribs so they can be pulled apart and open, then remove the lungs and intestines, and place them in the shape of wings. All while the victim lives. My cousin lay dying, dripping blood, unable to make a sound. _What a sight._

The monster rejoiced and laughed in my head; the deepest, darkest, most devilish laugh I’d ever heard. It was the bloodiest thing I’d ever done and she has never been happier. 

But tonight. Tonight was the greatest gift I could have given to my Puddin’. I wanted to perform a heist on my own; put my gymnastics skills to the test. There was a massive diamond that had just been loaned to Gotham Museum, and I was going to take it. 

I didn’t even tell Frankie where I was going. I dressed in a new outfit that I’d had made - a shirt that read Daddy’s Lil Monster, sparkly hot pants, and a jacket that reads Property of Joker, the shorts and jacket split down the middle in color – blue on the left and red on the right. 

I never even made it inside the building. While on the roof, I heard a grappling hook _THUNK_ and the _WHIRR_ of a so-called hero sliding down the line. I whipped around and saw none other than Robin. 

“Hey there, Boy Wonder. Where’s the Bat?” 

“He’s a little busy tonight.” 

“I just got here, how’d you find me already?” 

“You’re not so good with the silent alarms, Harley.” 

“Nobody puts silent alarms on the outside of buildings. How’d you really find me?” 

“Right place, right time.” He grinned. 

“More like wrong place, right time. We got cut off last time, Birdie. You’re mine now.” 

I didn’t have my new baseball bat. I’d brought my mallet for old time’s sake. And it was a good thing I did because he had his staff. We were geared up for a repeat of our last fight. 

He stabbed the blade in my direction and I backflipped. When I righted, I used my mallet to knock his staff aside and launched forward, slamming my shoulder into his solar plexus. He was knocked off his feet and I swung my mallet down at him, just barely missing when he rolled. With a growl I swung again, catching his shoulder as he tried to flip onto his feet and he stumbled. He swiped out with his staff, the blade pointing out and it only just caught me in the stomach. My new shirt now bore two small tears, which was more upsetting than the scratches now on my skin. 

My anger spun me faster. I wasn’t going to back down this time. There was no Frankie to grab me out of the way. And if Batman showed up, well I’d deal with that when the time comes. I vaulted and tumbled over his head, landing behind him as he jumped to his feet. He spun, lashing out with his staff and I just barely ducked in time. I swung the mallet and he thrust the staff up sideways, catching the blow. I snarled, rearing back again as he sidestepped. He spun the staff and snapped the blunt end into my face. I fell hard on my side, almost feeling the breath knocked out of me, and he rushed me, stabbing with the staff as he came. I launched to my feet, just barely getting out of the way of his blade, then I flipped over his head and kicked him from behind. He stumbled forward, but when he turned I lifted the mallet over my head and brought it down on his shoulder. Then I repeated the motion with his other shoulder, like a violent queen knighting her candidate. He grunted and fell to his knees. One final hit, square on the top of his head, and he fell unconscious before me. 

With a wide grin I pulled out my phone and tapped on the screen, texting J. 

“I have the best surprise for you, Puddin’” 

“Where are you?” 

“Top of the museum. Send Jonny and the boys. Meet up after.” 

I had them bring him to my old apartment. Was it the safest place? Not at all. But it was great for the needed purpose. We tied him tight to the recliner before J made his way over. 

“What’s this, Pumpkin?” 

“I got you a present!” I stepped back, gesturing to the chair. 

He tossed his head back and cackled, “You caught me a bird.” 

“I did Puddin’! Wanna hit him with my mallet?” 

“I have a crowbar,” he looked to Jonny, who left the apartment to get it from the car. 

“Oooo. … Can I go first?” 

“I thought this was my present?” he laughed. 

“Yeah, but … can I go first?” 

He laughed again, “Go right ahead, my little one.” 

~~_I want the knees. Smash the knees_ ~~ They made a glorious snapping sound. It only takes 15-30 pounds of pressure to break a knee. It’s no wonder I’ve managed to destroy so many. 

“Remember when Puddin’ broke your little Lady Bat? … I think you’re the one that’s broken now.” 

He tried to answer, tried to yell, but we’d gagged him tight. I patted his head with my hand, “Don’t worry. We’re not done.” 

He tried yelling again, eyes dark and angry, wracked with pain. But it was Mistah J’s turn and he spun the crowbar a few times as he approached. He lifted it high overhead and brought it down sharply on his left femur, starting above the smashed knee on the strongest bone in the human body. Thrice more he struck Robin’s thighs, clobbering them with the thick metal. Then he pivoted the crowbar over his shoulder the way a golfer would and swung hard, connecting with the side of his shin. Over and over he brought the steel down on Robin’s body. 

I could hear the bones snapping and began to laugh. His arms, his legs, they were turning to bloody, soggy sacks. J used every last ounce of pent up rage to turn him into a piñata. Every strike was payback for what Robin had done to J. Every hit was vengeance poured on the hero’s head. For the longest time he avoided hitting his skull, saving the best for last and keeping the man alive as long as possible. 

Snapping bones is its own kind of music. Robin’s screaming was unfortunately muffled by the gag but the breaking bones gave a melody that bounced around the room. Smashed hands, broken shins, then Puddin’ slammed the crowbar into his chest. 

~~_HahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA_ ~~

Blood slowly dribbled from Robin’s mouth around the gag. While J lowered his weapon so he could rest a moment, I moved into Boy Wonder’s field of vision, “You beat him bloody, you bastard. You smashed in his teeth and broke his jaw. You _damaged_ my love. And that’s why you’re going to die.” 

He didn’t even try to answer. He was reserved, like he knew it was the end. I went to Jonny and took his gun, a Smith & Wesson .44 Magnum. Then I turned and aimed at our foe. 

“Don’t kill him,” J warned. 

“I would never steal that joy from you, Puddin’.” 

_BANG_

The bullet hit him on the right side of his chest, blood spurting when it connected. Then I shot through each of his feet. Then J reared back like he held a baseball bat and swung forward, smashing Robin’s head with the full force of all his strength. I heard the _CRACK_ of his skull from where I was standing. J raised his arms over his head and brought the steel down on top of Boy Wonder’s head. It took a few more hits to open his skull than would have been needed for a watermelon, but soon it practically exploded, blood and brains splattering in all directions. All the walls of my old apartment bore some evidence of Robin’s death. 

~~_Now_ _Batsy_ _is all alone in the world._ ~~

My laughter filled the room, “Ya know, I think this was a present for both of us.” 

“You are incredible, my Pumpkin Pie.” 

“How’re we gonna tell the Bat?” 

There was almost no point in killing Robin if we couldn’t taunt Batman with his death. The Bat made things more fun, even if he did get in the way most of the time. Robin was just his sidekick, but they had been working together for a long time. There had to be some relationship there, right? And just how sweet was it that the Joker first stole Batgirl’s legs and now took Robin’s life? The kinds of things that Batsy’s other enemies would have loved to have done, but no one else had been capable of it. Just J. 

He grinned and then he laughed, “I know just the thing.” 

Before we left, he took a can of yellow spray paint from one of his boys and sprayed 

HAHAHA   
JOKES   
ON YOU   
BATMAN 

on Robin’s chest. Then we went to the top of the Gotham Police Station and turned on the Batsignal. We left a piece of paper with the address written on it taped to the symbol in the middle of the Batsignal, knowing that once the Bat discovered that the apartment used to be mine, he would know it was us that killed his partner. He would know it was my idea and once he saw the body, he would know why we killed him. _Joke’s on you, Batman._

How is he going to respond? I can’t wait to find out … 

J was riding a kill high when we got back home. Like my threesome high, he was absolutely wired. And his reaction to being wired was to launch into one of the most vicious sexual experiences I’ve ever been through. 

He used nipple clamps again, also placing them on my lower lips, letting them pinch my labia painfully. Then he dragged me so my shoulders were on the edge of the bed and shoved my head down. Without a word he yanked open my mouth and thrust his erect member between my lips. After sliding in and out, thoroughly coating himself in my saliva, he shoved in further, pressing at the opening of my throat. I gagged and he pulled back slightly just so he could ram into me again. 

“Open your throat,” he growled. 

I tried, but it was difficult. I’ve never managed to do it before, but he ignored my gagging and the tears that streamed from my eyes. He forced his way in and fucked my throat with his thick cock. Back and forth he went and a few times I tried to swallow so he could feel something different. He fucked my throat until my lungs burned and the edges of my vision began to darken. But when he pulled out and I sucked in air I felt that familiar gush between my lower lips. He slapped me until my cheeks turned a bright red, and then he moved to my ass. Even with how hard he had been hitting Robin he still had the strength to give me intense pain. It was like he wasn’t tired at all. 

He scratched me until I bled, leaving long red streaks down my back. And when he whipped me over, forcing me to lie on the wounds he’d just given me, he savagely ripped off the nipple clamps. I shrieked and he laughed, lowering to take my nipple into his mouth and bite down hard. I squealed as I came. 

“Daddy,” I moaned. 

He grunted and moved his mouth to my other nipple, sucking hard before rolling it between those metal teeth. Then moved off my nipple and bit down on my tit, sucking to leave a hickey. He knows how much I love to be marked by him. He left teeth marks in his wake as he made his way down to my pussy. There he used his teeth to grip the clamps and tear them from my lips. I yelped and his mouth was on me, licking, sucking, kissing my most sensitive places. He bit down and pulled on every area he could, making tears of pain and pleasure drip down my face. 

When he moved up to enter me, I put a hand on his chest. “Get your knife.” 

A wicked grin curved his features, “You want daddy to cut you, Pumpkin?” 

“Pretty please, Puddin?” 

He got up from the bed and left the room. When he came back, he had a purple and gold barber’s straight-edge razor in one hand. He flipped me onto my stomach and climbed onto my back, his left arm winding around me and pinning my arms below us. With just a swipe of his thumb, the blade opened, glinting in the light. 

“Is this what you want, little one?” 

“Please, Daddy. Cut me.” 

His face lowered next to mine, both of us staring at the blade, “Where do you want this, baby girl?” 

He brought the knife to my throat, the edge just barely touching to my skin, “How about right here? You want me to cut you here?” 

“Anywhere you want.” 

His strong arm arched me backward and he brought the blade lower on my body, just to the left of my clavicle. Expertly he swiped. Hard enough to draw blood but not so hard as to actually wound me. I shrieked from the pain, soaking the bed below us and he laughed. “My good girl.” 

J flicked the blade closed and tossed it aside. I pouted, “ _More._ ” 

“Not this time.” he used one hand to guide himself into me from behind and began to pump slowly before quickening his movements. Then he wound the arm that had been holding me around my neck and pulled tightly, closing off my airway and pinching the arteries that fed blood to my brain. He fucked me brutally, holding me in the headlock until I passed out and I woke up to his hands at my hips, pushing the lower half of me into the bed while he pounded me wickedly. 

He scratched and whipped and fucked me hard, switching positions a few times before lying me on my side, one leg on his shoulder while the other was below him. In and out he rocked, slapping my face. He drove me to my peak and pushed me over it again and again, letting me stream and gush and cry out my orgasms. He felt so amazing, so virile and strong. He pinned me down and squeezed my throat, sliding his cock in and out endlessly. I never wanted it to end, the feelings of euphoria, the dizzy cloud that comes from lack of oxygen, the incessant pounding of his cock deep in my cunt. It was the perfect ending to the perfect day. 


	45. Chapter 45

I realized something first thing this morning. Something that dropped fear on my brain like a ton of bricks. 

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, please, no._

I grabbed my phone and checked the app I used to discover … yep. I’m late. Over a week late. And I’ve been having a lot of sex. I jumped out of bed and ran from the room, needing somewhere to pace quietly. I cannot be pregnant. I don’t want a kid. 

_A baby! A little bitty baby with my daddy! Yay!_

_Shut up, you little psycho. A kid would cramp my style._

I made it to the second bedroom before quietly shrieking to myself. _I have to get a test. I have to get a dozen tests. Shit, no one can know about this. … I do_ _not_ _need baby daddy drama! No. No... I’ll figure out if I’m pregnant and then I’ll just get an abortion._

I managed to sneak out of the Penthouse before J woke up so I could run down to the nearest shop that sells pregnancy tests. Somehow, I even managed to make it back before he’d gotten up, so I rushed into the second bathroom as I was bursting to pee. I had to make sure, so I took five sticks and just peed on all of them. 

Every. Single. One. Was NEGATIVE! 

_Praise whatever gods there are above, I am_ _not_ _pregnant. … Wait a minute... How am I not pregnant?_

I’ve never been late before. My cycle has always been every 29 days, like clockwork. But I’m ten days late. I haven’t been one day late ever. Not since I first started my period at the age of 14. _What the hell is happening?_

I was still musing over the situation over a cup of coffee when J found me in the kitchen. At the expression on my face, he queried, “What’s wrong, baby girl?” 

“It’s nothing. … I think. … I don’t know.” 

He poured himself a cup of coffee and moved over to the island, leaning on it with one arm while sipping the coffee with his other, “What is it?” 

“I’m just … I’m late?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I never been late and now it’s like ten days overdue and that never happens but the sticks said not pregnant!” 

He blinked slowly, having still just gotten up, but sighed once he understood what I was talking about. “You probably won’t get it back.” 

“What?” 

“Your period, right?” 

“Yeah...” 

“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting you to have it again.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“Do you remember drinking a full bottle of champagne at the Smile and Grin our first night out of Arkham?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you remember the ‘vitamin shot’ you got that prevented the hangover?” 

“Yes! How come I haven’t gotten one since then? Hangovers suck ass, and even if Sal’s sandwiches are miracles in a wrapper, I’d rather get a shot and prevent them to begin with.” 

“They’re not meant for after a chemical bath. Actually … they’re not meant for before a chemical bath either.” 

“Will you just say what you mean?” 

“There was more than just vitamins in the shot I gave you. There was also a birth control device, something that sits under your skin or something.” 

“You injected me with birth control?” 

“I knew who you were, Pumpkin. I knew where we were going. I knew I had found my queen. And I knew that neither of us wanted a runt crawling around. So yes, I injected you with birth control. But then … well, then you decided to jump into a vat of chemicals. … Chemicals that melt medical devices.” 

“Are you saying” my fingers curled into fists, “Are you saying that whatever you put inside me has melted into me?” 

“Probably.” He sipped away at his coffee, nonplussed. 

“Are you saying you sterilized me?” 

“Probably.” He sounded exactly the same. Like it was no big deal. Like it meant nothing. 

“You permanently sterilized me?!” 

He shrugged, “Prob-” 

“If you say probably one more time, I am going to strangle you.” 

“What’s got you in a twist?” 

“In a _twist_? In a … you sterilized me!” 

“What, like you want a kid?” 

“Not now, but maybe someday!” 

“Harley, can you ever see yourself actually being a mother?” 

I shrieked wordlessly and threw my mug at him. He ducked out of the way and it smashed against the cabinet behind his head. “Whether I want to be a mother or not is not the point! You can’t just castrate someone!” 

“Oh, was I supposed to know you were going to ask to bathe in the chemical plant?” Crystal blue eyes held me contemptuously. 

“That is not the point!” I yelled again. “How dare you?!” 

“Princess, I do what I want, and I wanted you temporarily unable to have children. You can’t blame me when you’re the one who went and made it permanent.” His smirk was infuriating. 

I screamed at him, grabbing whatever random items were in front of me and throwing them at him. “You fucking bastard!” 

“You need to calm down, little girl.” 

“You need to shut up!” I stormed from the room, heading straight for my closet. He followed after me, pissed off that I’d started a fight so early in the morning. “You think that just because it was supposed to be temporary that makes it ok?” 

“I think that you’d already given me your heart. I know that you knew you’d do anything I’d ask. So why the fuck do I need to ask? If I want you to be able to fuck anyone, I’m certainly going to make sure there are no unwanted pregnancies!” 

“Oh, but who worries about STDs, right? Let me be your little cum dumpster for whoever you want to get a turn, as long as I can’t carry their kid.” 

“You don’t have to worry about STDs. Not now anyway.” 

“What, you sneak some other injection of ‘vitamins’ into my body?” 

“Another side effect of Ace Chemicals, my love.” 

“Quick healing on tattoos and no STDs. Sounds like I made an excellent trade-off.” 

“As compared to what?” he scowled, furious. “That mousey life in that shitty apartment? You’d rather be Dr. Harleen Quinzel?” 

“I’d rather be … I’d rather be …" 

“What?!” he demanded. 

I went low. I didn’t just crawl into the dirt; I bore down into magma. I stared him in the eye, expression as hateful as I could make it, “I _deserve_ to be _free_.” 

I can’t describe the look on his face. The micro-expressions flashed in a matter of seconds, so many emotions conveyed at once. Anger, hurt, fear, rage, disappointment, pain, betrayal, desperation, fury, hatred, determination. “You’re more free now than you have ever been.” 

“Free to do whatever you want, right? Free to be your little puppet on a string.” 

“Harley -” 

“No! You stole from me!” 

“You don’t even want kids!” 

“That’s _not_ the point!” 

He grabbed me before I’d made it halfway across the second bedroom, before I made it to my closet, and I reared back, yanking my arm from his grip. I punched him square in the face and stomped on his toes, making him yelp furiously. Then I ran. 

“Har- _LEY_!” he chased after me and I ducked through the halls before getting cornered in his office. I stood behind his desk, him on the other side between me and the door. “This is ridiculous. Would you just calm down?” 

“Fuck you!” I picked up his laptop and threw it at him. I grabbed papers off his desk, pens, paperweights, anything I could get my fingers on, and threw them all in his direction. Rage drove me, not the monster. Just me in my own fury. “Fuck you!” 

I circled the desk as he drew closer, keeping it between us, and when I got close enough to his office bar cart, I snatched up the lead crystal decanter, aimed, and threw it at his head. 

_Bullseye._

He dropped like an anchor, unconscious. At first, I wasn’t sure, so I moved closer to check. After kicking him a couple times I knew for sure he was out. So, I went to my closet and packed a bag. I packed my costumes, some regular clothes, shoes, makeup, jewelry. Ok, so I had a couple bags by the time I was done. Then I took my Good Night bat, walked into the kitchen with my phone, placed it on the island, and proceeded to beat the shit out of it. I smashed it to pieces and left them all in a pile. _Won’t be able to find me this time, asshole._

I took my bags and went down to the garage before anyone could find either one of us. Once I grabbed my keys, I tossed my bags in the trunk and took the Quinnmobile up and out onto the streets of Gotham. I drove around for a while, wondering where I was going to go. What I was going to do. Who I was going to be. Then I stopped at the park so I could go in to sit down somewhere pretty and wrote this entry before I forgot a word of our fight. 


	46. Chapter 46

I’d gotten back in the Quinnmobile to just drive around for a while. I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was only half an hour before I heard the alarms of Gotham Botanical Gardens’ Rare Plants wing. And then I saw her. She was carrying two potted plants and _running_ across the gardens, through a crowd of people. Guards followed, hollering, but she only spurred herself faster. I pulled the car over near the entrance to the Botanical Gardens and leaned over, clicking the door opener so the door would swing up. As soon as she burst through the entrance, I yelled out the car, “Hey, lady! Need a ride?” 

She didn’t have time to think. She just ran over and jumped into the Quinnmobile, grabbing the door and pulling it down quickly. “Drive!” 

She didn’t need to ask twice. I slammed my foot on the gas and we peeled away from the curb, leaving the guards running up into our dust. 

“I’m Harley.” 

“Ivy,” she replied, cradling the potted roses like babies. “Thank you for saving us.” 

“Us?” I glanced at the plants, “You know those are just flowers, right?” 

“They’re not just flowers,” she frowned. 

I glanced her over as I sped around the streets - I couldn’t use the underground roads without my cellphone. Long red hair, deep emerald eyes, smooth creamy skin except for her lips, which are dark green. I thought it was makeup at first, but no, I came to find out her lip color changed when she had transformed, “I know you. Pam Isely, right?” 

“How the hell do you know -” 

“Sorry. Poison Ivy. It’s Poison Ivy, right?” 

“Yes … just who are you, Harley?” 

“Harley Quinn, Queen of Gotham, at your service. I knew of you in another life. In fact, I was almost your therapist.” 

“My therapist?” 

“I worked in Arkham. But I was known as Harleen Quinzel back then.” 

“Harleen Quinzel … Harley Quinn … Queen of Gotham?” 

“You got it, Red.” 

“Right. Listen, can you just drive me home?” 

“Just tell me where we’re goin’.” 

She guided me to the small toxic waste dump at the back of Gotham Garbage and Waste Removal, on which they had begun a housing development that was now shut down. For being a toxic waste dump, the greenery was impressive. One house specifically looked particularly jungle-like. There were green plants covering the entire home. After I parked and we climbed out of the Quinnmobile I grabbed my bags and followed her inside. 

“Is it safe to be here?” 

“It is for me,” she answered calmly. 

“Well, that’s comforting.” 

She laughed, “Isn’t it just? Let me take care of these two and I’ll get right back to you.” 

I put down my bags and she walked off into another room to do whatever it was she was doing. I looked around a bit, taking in all the ferns and flowers and little trees. Finally, I wandered after her, wondering what she was doing. 

“Here we are, my babies. Look at what they had you in. These pots were far too small, weren’t they? Poor things were choking in there.” 

I watched her as she tutted and transferred the plants to bigger pots, pouring in more dirt and moving it about just so. When she turned, she said, “The Juliet Rose. Rarest roses on the planet. And look what they were doing to them. These poor things will be much happier here.” 

“Won’t the toxic waste hurt them?” 

She smiled, pleased that I seemed interested in the welfare of her plants, “I know how to take care of my babies.” 

Then she led me through her home, naming off the different plants as we passed. She’d given each of them human names and I didn’t retain any of them. 

“So, how’d you become Ivy?” I asked for her origin story. 

“I was a botanist in Seattle. My boss, Marc LeGrande, seduced me. He convinced me to help him steal a rare Egyptian artifact that was just coming in to be loaned to the local history museum. We got it from the port before it was delivered. Inside there were ancient herbs, a scientific discovery that would change the course of history. But Marc didn’t want to share the herbs, he wanted to use them for himself. He told me he wanted to keep it quiet until he’d managed to grow a live sample but he somehow got it in his head that I would turn on him. So, he developed a plant-based poison and began injecting me on a daily basis. He’d said it was experiments to grow the herbs; but he was trying to kill me. I was so lost in my love for him that I believed him. Until he just snapped one day. He locked me in an airtight room and began pumping in toxins. Thing is, his experiments protected me. The poison he developed had an unforeseen side effect and I now have an immunity to all poisons and toxins. Once I got out of the room, I killed him and then fled here, to Gotham.” 

“And you can control plants.” I’d seen in her file that part of her abilities was controlling plant life, influencing men with her pheromones to get them to do what she wanted, and killer kisses. 

“Along with a few other things.” 

“That’s why you live here?” 

“Who’s going to come out to a toxic waste dump? No one will find me here. No one would survive here.” 

“Not even Batman?” 

She scowled, “That creature has stopped one too many of my plans.” 

“At least Robin is dead.” 

“What? Robin is dead?” 

I nodded, “Me and Mistah J killed him last night.” 

“Mr. J?” 

“Yeah, you know … the Joker?” 

“You know the Joker??” 

“He’s my boyfriend … _was_ my boyfriend. I think I just dumped him?” 

“You dumped the _Joker_?!” dark emerald green eyes were wide, shocked. “I can’t believe anyone would date him, to begin with.” 

“He’s not that bad!” I defended. 

“If he’s not that bad, why did you leave him?” 

“It’s … complicated.” 

“Right. Complicated.” 

“It’s not his fault! He didn’t mean for it to happen.” 

“For what to happen?” 

“I can’t … I … it’s not important.” 

She _hmphed_ and rolled her eyes, “So unimportant you walked out on him. … How’d you wind up with him in the first place?” 

I told her – filled her in on everything that had happened between us. From first meeting him up until last night. I definitely didn’t tell her about this morning, though. Or about the time he killed me; I had a feeling that would be triggering for her with what she had gone through with her ex. 

“So, you went from murdering Robin together last night to leaving him this morning?” 

“I don’t even know if I have! Technically … I mean, I never told him we were breaking up.” 

“Well, what does he think about how you left?” 

“Uhh … well … he wasn’t exactly conscious for it?” 

She shook her head, laughing a little, “You knocked him out and left … Yeah, I’d say you’re broken up, Harley.” 

“You don’t know that,” I crossed my arms stubbornly. “He’ll want me back. You’ll see.” 

“What if he doesn’t?” 

It was like she had slapped me.  _Daddy not want me?_ the little girl inside me wept. Tears stung my eyes, “He will. We’re destined.” 

Ivy rolled her eyes, “Never trust a man, Harley. They’ll just fuck you over in the end.” 

“Not my Puddin’. He loves me.” 

“If he hasn’t fucked you over already, why did you leave the first time? Why did you leave now?” 

I scowled at her, one tear spilling over onto my cheek, “I told you, it’s complicated.” 

“Why don’t you just tell me what happened?” 

I refused. She already didn’t seem to like him; I didn’t need to give her more reasons. Instead, I pointed out the potted flower on the windowsill in the kitchen, “Who’s that one again?” 

“Don’t try to change the subject.” 

“I just needed some space, ok?” 

She sighed and shook her head again. “Look. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone. But you can stay here as long as you need.” 

“You’ll let me stay?” I brightened. 

“There’s something about you, Harl.” 

I grinned wide, “Thanks, Red!” 

“First things first,” she said and then walked off into another room. I trailed after her, unsure of what else to do in a house completely filled with live plants. There was a mini science lab in a spare bedroom and she sat down before the table to work. I pestered her with questions about what she was doing, but it was all so technical I don’t remember any of it. All I remember is her telling me that if I didn’t get a vaccination within a certain amount of time, I’d croak. It was really neat watching ivies and other plants respond to her will, carrying over beakers and vials of chemicals. Weird. But neat. 

By the time she was done I’d been there less than half an hour. “Ok, Harl. One injection and you’ll be all set.” 

I frowned, feeling mildly upset, “Does it have to be a shot?” 

“Only if you want to not die. Staying in a toxic waste dump will kill you otherwise.” 

I didn’t want a shot. Not after what I’d discovered this morning. _At least she’s not telling me it’s “vitamins.”_ In the end, I allowed her to inject me with the vaccine she’d made. And now I’m like her, immune to all poisons and toxins. 

“Are you sure it worked?” I asked, slightly worried that I’d still wind up irradiated or something. 

“Well, there’s one way to know for sure.” She moved close to me and bent to kiss me before I realized what she was doing. 

My eyes were wide with shock when she stepped back. I certainly hadn’t expected that. “You … I …” 

“I told you there’s something about you, Harl...” she smiled softly. 

“You can’t just go kissing people when your lips are toxic!” 

“Harley.” 

“What?!” 

“You’re not dead.” 

“That’s not the point.” _Damn, I’m saying that a lot today... Is everyone I meet just going to play with my life?_

“You wouldn’t have died. I have an antidote.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m sorry if I scared you.” 

I don’t know why but I kissed her again, this time without the worry. _Her lips are so soft._ She smelled like jasmine and gardenia, a beautiful little garden on her skin. _ NO. NO, I WANT DADDY. _ ~~_Kill her. Smash in her face. Death._ ~~ The chattering in my head was all negative, which only made me more determined to like her. No one controls me, not even the voices. She’s nice, and soft, and a badass. And just because she’s not Puddin’ doesn’t mean I can’t like her. 

She broke the kiss, “I guess I didn’t scare you that bad.” 

Much to my dismay, my heart broke; and I hated myself for it. “I don’t … I’m not … Red, I’m sorry. I’m not ready for something else. … With anyone.” 

“I didn’t think you would be. But I haven’t kissed anyone in a very long time. That was nice.” 

I smiled, but she could see the heartache. She wrapped one arm around my shoulders, “You really love him, don’t you?” 

I nodded, beginning to sniffle, “I really, really do.” 

“C’mon, Harl. Let’s watch some TV and eat junk food.” 

“Thanks, Red. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” 


	47. Chapter 47

I wanted comfort last night. I wanted to forget my problems and enjoy myself. So, before it was late enough that we would be too tired, I looked to Ivy and asked the question burning in my mind, “Hey, Red? You said it was a long time since you’d last kissed somebody?” 

“Yeah?” 

“How long has it been since … I mean, I don’t want to upset or offend ... but … well …” I gulped and rushed out, “Do you want to have sex?” 

She stared at me. Just stared in shock for a long time, “I thought ... you said … you said you didn’t … you weren’t ready …" 

“I’m not ready to move on. My heart is his. But my body is mine. Always has been.” 

“I usually … well, I’ve never done it with someone I wasn’t involved with.” 

“Ok.” I wasn’t going to push. But then she leaned over and kissed me. I’m sure it's been a very long time since she’d been with anyone that way. I’m just lucky she’s into girls. 

The kiss deepened and I found myself intoxicated by her scent. I knew she couldn’t use her pheromones on women, but I think I, personally, was swayed by them. I found her to be utterly delicious before I’d even really gotten to taste her. My tongue entered her mouth, swirling against hers and her hands slid up my body to rest on my shoulders before her right hand slid up further to curve in my hair against my skull, drawing me closer to her. Her kisses were sweet and tender, soft in the way that only a woman’s can be. 

Usually, I wouldn’t enjoy the gentleness that Ivy was showing, but for some reason I really loved her touch. Her skin was silky and supple, her fingers long and delicate in their movements. There was something about her that made me want to be gentle in return. I touched her reverently, delighting in the softness of her skin under my fingers. I wanted to take my time with her, enjoy every moment as it came. 

I went to remove my top, and she took off hers at the same time. Then I nimbly undid her bra and slowly withdrew it from her form. Languidly, I pushed her backward until she was lying down on the couch and lowered myself over her to claim her nipple with my mouth. I sucked gently, swirling my tongue around it and even nibbling lightly. Her breaths grew heavier and she buried her hands in my hair. I continued my ministrations on first one, then the other of her very full breasts, enjoying the feeling of a nipple in my mouth and the taste of the garden that is her skin. 

Eventually, she reached down and undid my bra, removing it from me quickly while sitting up and taking my mouth in a firm kiss. She lay me back on my side of the couch and bent to suckle on my tits in a way that no one else ever had. Others had been tender, but not in her way. She brought me to orgasm just through the nipple play of her mouth on me. And when she did, she chuckled, “Didn’t know I was that good.” 

I giggled, “Well I’ve never experienced that before, so I’d say so.” 

I pulled her up to my mouth and kissed her again, reveling in the taste of her. But all it did was make me want to take off her pants and really savor her. Her mind was thinking along the same tracks. 

“I want to taste you,” she said. 

“Me first.” I ordered her to lie down again and she did while smirking at me. Then I removed her leggings and underwear and slowly kissed my way from her ankle to her thigh, moving deliberately. Like I said, I wanted to take my time. When I got high enough, I moved down her other leg and began kissing my way up again. 

“Oh, you tease,” she admonished. 

I snickered, “Good things come to those who wait.” 

Again, I kissed my way up her leg, moving just as slowly as before. But this time, when I reached her sweet spot, I didn’t move away. I buried myself between her lower lips, thrusting my tongue into her. She squealed from the shock but didn’t pull away. In and out I plunged my tongue, tasting ambrosia of the gods. I can’t describe her taste, but she is exquisite. I really wish I could find the right words because she is delicious and I never want to forget her just how truly wonderful she tastes. 

Eventually, I removed my tongue from her, moving up to lick and lave at her clit. Her moaning brought on a sense of accomplishment and I slipped two fingers inside her, thrusting in and out to get them coated in her juices before flicking up on her g-spot. Once again, her fingers tangled in my hair and she leaned deeper into the couch, her cries such a beautiful sound. Even the little girl in me was enjoying herself.  _Tastes so good..._

I really reveled in making her feel good. Every gasp and groan just felt amazing. Maybe life doesn’t have to always have pain in order to feel pleasure... 

I counted her orgasms. I wanted to know. I got her to seven before she begged me to stop. I didn’t want to. In fact, I ignored her requests at first. 

“Harley!” she yelped, pushing at my head, “Stop, stop, stop!” 

I pouted as I sat up, “I wasn’t done.” 

“Well I am!” her chest heaved with her deep breaths, body shivering slightly in the afterglow. As she came to herself, she sat up, “Your turn.” 

I lay back and allowed her to remove my shorts and thong; she didn’t make me wait and dove directly for my cunt, shoving my legs wide and licking her fingers before shoving them inside me. Bending quickly, her mouth was on my clit, sucking and licking. I moaned loudly, loving every touch. She knew just how to move, how to flick her tongue, how to nibble so lightly that I just kept gushing all over her hand. My cunt tightened on her fingers and she moaned, “I love the way you taste, the way you feel.” 

I tried to respond but found myself incapable of speech. She touched me in ways no one else has. I lost count of how many times I came under her expertise. But I could tell she was loving it just as much as I was. By the time she sat up, we were both covered in a sheen of sweat. She lay atop me, kissing me with wild abandon. 

“You’re soaking my couch,” she snickered. 

“Should we move somewhere else?” 

“In a minute. I just need to catch my breath.” 

When we went upstairs and into her bedroom, we were both giggling like schoolgirls. I lightly smacked her ass and when she whirled, I jumped atop her, both of us bouncing when we landed on the bed. I kissed her again, my fingers creeping between her legs and rubbing in little circles on her clit. 

“Can we scissor? I’ve never done it.” 

She laughed, “That’s not _really_ a thing outside of porn.” 

“Caaaan we do it anyway?” 

She laughed again, but nodded. And though it “wasn’t really a thing,” we still both wound up cumming before we were done. There was just something so erotic about our legs intertwined, rubbing our pussies together, the gentle grazing of our clits against each other’s lips. 

“Fuuuuuck!” I cried as she fell from above me, landing just to my side. 

“Damn. … Ok, that was really fun.” 

“So much for ‘not a thing,’ huh?” I rolled over and brushed my lips against hers, moving my mouth slowly and drawing her tongue into it. 

We fucked for hours; the longest session I’ve ever had. Every so often we would pause to catch our breath, to let our pussies’ throbbing taper, to get a drink and once, a snack. But it was honestly one of the best nights I’ve ever had. It was the one good thing about my day. It may have started really shitty, but at least it ended well. 


	48. Chapter 48

I woke up this morning in Ivy’s arms. It was strange, and a little more intimate than I wanted from someone other than Daddy.  _I miss Daddy._ _Shut up._

When I tried to slip out of her hold, she breathed deeply, stretching a bit before opening her eyes, “Mornin’, Harl.” 

“Mornin’, Red.” 

We got up and ate together and I showered before she did. After I’d gotten dressed, while she was still in the shower, I moved through the rooms of her house, looking at her “babies” carefully. There were so many different types of plants and I only recognized maybe a quarter of them. Every so often I’d reached out and touch a leaf, a flower petal, a stem. I reached for one last leaf, not noticing that the tendrils on it were razor sharp. I also didn’t notice that it was actually half of a leaf, the other side stretched out and looking just as innocent as the one I reached for. And when I touched it, the two halves snapped closed on my finger. I shrieked and pulled back automatically, but the genetically altered Venus flytrap wouldn’t let go. 

Ivy walked in behind me and yelled, “Stevie, no!” 

She rushed forward, reaching out her fist and then separating her fingers, the plant’s “mouth” opening and releasing me. She took my hand in hers and frowned, “This doesn’t look good.” 

“It’s not too bad,” I winced. “Just needs some bandages and I’ll be good as new.” 

“I should have warned you. I’m so sorry.” 

I waved her off. It’s not like I was dripping blood everywhere. They really were just little cuts, “I’ll be fine. Because of the chemicals, minor cuts heal within a few days. Makes getting tattoos much easier.” 

She brought me into the bathroom and set about cleaning my fingers with alcohol. I winced again, instinctively pulling away. She just shook her head, “Don’t be a big baby.” 

“You’d think after living with Mistah J, I’d be used to a little pain.” 

“Why do you put up with that clown?” 

“Don’t get me wrong, my Puddin’s a little rough sometimes but he loves me, really.” 

“Sure, he does. You’re just one big forgiving doormat, aren’t you?” 

“I am not a doormat! … Am I?” 

“If you had a middle name it would be ‘Welcome.’” 

I sort of wilted and she rushed to continue, “Oh, but cheer up, kid. You just need some lessons in good old female self-esteem. In other words, let’s play with the boys on our own terms.” 

She had a brilliant idea. We were going to loot the Gotham Adventurers’ Club. Women had been protesting the club for years over their men-only membership, but somehow the stalwart building remained closed to females. None ever entered. But today, that changed. 

I drove her pink convertible to the club after we’d gotten dressed. I wore my harlequin outfit and she wore a green strapless bodice over lighter green leggings with ivy embroidered on them, and gloves that matched her bodice. When I pulled up at the Men’s Club, she hopped over the side of the car and moved up to the guard at the doorway. I parked and hopped out after her, carrying a bag with her special pods inside. 

The guard held out his hand, “No further, girls.” 

Ivy smiled salaciously and stepped forward, breathing over her skin into his face, spreading her pheromones through his lungs. He stepped forward and opened the door wide, bowing as he gestured inside, “Please, ladies, after you.” 

He followed us in and then locked the door at her command. Then we moved through the club until we found the men gathered in a sort of conference room. The man at the head of the table began sputtering when Ivy walked in, breathing heavily as she went and allowing her pheromones to float to their noses. It forced them to listen as she spoke. 

“A moment, please, Mr. Chairman.” she entered to the muttering of the men in the hall. 

“Outrageous!” blustered the chairman, “See here, young lady, is this some kind of joke?” 

“The joke, my dear chairman, is this obsolete, sexist mockery you call a men’s club.” She moved further into the room, “Now I ask you, what kind of adventurers refuse to admit women?” 

As the men chattered disapprovingly, I moved behind them, dropping pods behind each chair. They noticed me but paid no mind to what the “foolish woman” was doing. 

“Still, if it’s excitement you boys crave,” I handed her the last pod and she tossed it at the chairman, the pods then bursting open to reveal coils of thick, strong vines that quickly tied up each of the men. They were yelling, frightened, and I giggled. “That should keep you big, strong men busy while we weak little girls loot your trophy room.” 

“Gee, Red. You got style!” 

“This is true,” she smiled, leading me from the hall as the men fought against their binds and bellowed after us. Before too long we found the trophy room, obviously laden with all kinds of taxidermized animals, but also filled with gold, gems, rare artifacts that belong in museums. We took them all and brought them back to Ivy’s place, leaving the animal bodies behind, of course. 

Ivy was thrilled with the results of our excursion, but when she noticed my expression she faltered, “What’s wrong, Harl?” 

“Somehow I don’t feel like my old perky self...” I knew what it was. But I didn’t want to tell her. I knew she wouldn’t approve. Still, I couldn’t stop the words in my mouth, “Something’s missin’ …" 

“Will you stop?” she frowned, “I can’t believe you’re still mooning over that psychotic creep!” 

“Well, maybe I’d feel better if I knew he missed me too.” 

“You are so much better off without that clown.” 

“You’re probably right … but I love him. So much.” 

“Shush, now. Why don’t we plan what to do with our afternoon? I hear there’s a massive diamond at the museum with your name all over it.” 

“You mean the Harlequin Diamond? That’s actually how I ran into Robin. I was there to steal it and didn’t even make it inside before he showed up.” 

“Why don’t we do that?” 

“Don’cha think it will be easier tonight when there’s no one else there?” 

“You’re probably right, but what would we do until then?” 

“Oooo, I wish I could go to the Toybox. I have so much to do there.” 

“What’s the Toybox?” I filled her in on everything I’d been doing there and she laughed. Ivy cared nothing for people. In fact, I’d read in her file that she wanted to wipe out humanity and give the planet back to plants. _Lucky she’s not crazy or anything_. 

We wound up just talking until the early hours of the evening. After double-checking when the museum closed, we got ready to go and loaded up her convertible. It didn’t take too long to get to the museum from her place. Once there she used more pods as beanstalks to get us to the roof. 

“Whaddaya think, Red? Think those viney things can get me low enough to cut the top of the glass off?” 

“Should be a piece of cake.” 

And it was. Her vines wound around me, lowering me through the hole in the glass on the ceiling we’d cut open. I used the glass cutter on the top of the square glass case and reached through to grab the diamond. As soon as I pulled it off its pedestal and alarm started ringing, “Red? Get me outta here!” 

I tugged on the vine and it slowly started lifting. I was high enough by the time guards entered the Gem Wing that they didn’t see me, and the vines finally lifted me out of the hole and onto the roof, “That was close!” 

“C’mon, Harl, let’s get out of here.” 

The vines carried us down to the car and we jumped in, rushing back the way we’d come before the police even showed up. They wouldn’t know it was us unless we wound up on security tape, but who knows if that happened. It doesn’t matter. Like Ivy had said yesterday, who’s going to go looking at a toxic waste dump for someone? 

We took turns looking at the diamond in the light, holding its heft in our hands. The largest diamond I have ever seen and it’s ours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note #1:  
> Much of this chapter was lifted from Batman: The Animated Series episode "Harley and Ivy." My Poison Ivy is a mix of BTAS Ivy and my own version.
> 
> Author's Note #2:  
> I have about a week's worth of content left planned, and then the storyline moves on to Suicide Squad. Here's my question: since canonically she doesn't have access to a journal, should I skip Suicide Squad and write a journal entry as if she was back home after the end of Suicide Squad, or should I switch to a narrator pov to cover the content in Suicide Squad? I could also attempt to do more of a first-person narration, sort of continuing the journal style but in an as-it-happens capacity, but I have a feeling I'll struggle with that.  
> What do you think would work best with the flow I've already cultivated?


	49. Chapter 49

We were talking about what we were going to do today, trying to come up with a plan, when there was a pounding at the door. For a split second, I wondered if it was Puddin’, but there was no way he could have found me without my cell phone. 

“You  expectin ’ someone, Red?”

She shook her head, vines coming up behind her as she slowly approached the door. The pounding came again, more insistent this time. I walked up behind Ivy, staring at the door in curiosity. I didn’t even have my bat, so I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I wanted to be close. She used a vine to open the door, and there he was.

“ Puddin ’!” I shrieked joyously and rushed forward, jumping into his arms, “You found me!”

He kissed me deeply, “I will always come for you, little one.”

After setting me down, he looked to Ivy with hate in his eyes. Before I could do anything, two vines wrapped around my arm and pulled me back as she muttered, “So much for self-esteem. … Did you forget why you left?”

I started, wondering how she knew, wondering if she’d invaded my privacy and read my journal. But then I realized she was just trying to make me think of it, even though she didn’t know what it was. She was trying to help. And for a second, I was angry again.

“I didn’t forget.” I looked to J with a frown.

He reached out his arms to me the way he had at the top of the platform just before I killed Harleen, “Pumpkin. My love, I’m so sorry for what happened and for our fight. You know I didn’t intend for what I did to be permanent and I shouldn’t have blamed it on you.”

I felt my heart softening.

“And if you really want to be a mother one day, we can steal a  rugrat or two.”

I squealed and tried to jump forward, but the ivies were still wrapped around my arm.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Harl, what did he do to you?!”

“Harl?” J asked, one hairless brow raised.

“It’s a long story, Red. But it’s ok, really. You can let me go now.”

The plants continued to pull at me as J pulled out his Colt and leveled it at Ivy.

“ Puddin ’, no!” I stepped into his line of sight, blocking her. My expression dark and serious, “If you hurt so much as one hair on her  head, I will leave you forever and you’ll never see me again.”

“I would find you.”

“And I wouldn’t come back. I’d kill you if you tried to make me. Do. Not. Hurt. Her.”

He scowled at me, angry at my standing up to him. I could tell he wanted to test me. Wanted to cause her pain. But I was serious in my threats.

More vines lashed out and I yelled, “Ivy, stop!” before they could reach him. I turned to look at her with just as dark a scowl as I’d given him, “The same goes for you. You hurt one hair on his head and I’ll kill you myself.”

Emerald green eyes widened, hurt. “Harl...”

“Don’t get me wrong, Red. I love ya. But he’s … He’s my soulmate.”

“Look what he’s done to you.”

“I know what he’s done. I know everything he’s done. And I love him.” I said it simply. Just stating facts. Was I still furious? Hell yeah. Did I want to go home? More than anything. “I still  wanna go on heists and go shopping and have girl days. … This isn’t goodbye, Red.”

“I … I’m  gonna need some time, Harl.” she was really hurt.  _ Why is she acting like I betrayed her? _

The vines withdrew from my arm and I ran to J, “Daddy!”

As he gathered me in his arms, pulling me in for another deep kiss, I heard Ivy scoff behind me. He picked me up and carried me outside, where I saw a LOT of his boys waiting, “You weren’t  gonna storm in and kill everyone you found … were ya?”

“Of course, Pumpkin. I’d do anything for you.”

“You’re not gonna hurt her?”

“I promise.”

“If you  punish me for this I will leave again.”

He leveled me in his gaze as he  set me down, a slight frown on his face.  Clearly, I’d messed up some of his plans.

“You don’t get to sterilize me and then punish me for reacting to it.”

He held me in his arms and finally conceded, “Ok. No punishments.”

I squeezed him tightly, just so glad to be in his arms again, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I couldn’t sleep at all.”

“How’d you find me?”

“We hacked into the GPS in your car. Took a while longer than I thought it would.” He growled, frustrated with whoever it was that had failed him.

I looked around, “Where is my car?” 

“Being brought back home, of course.”

“You towed my car? What if I didn’t want to go back with you?”

He looked stunned for a moment but covered it quickly, “That wouldn’t have been an option, my love.”

By this point, we were both in the backseat of his purple Lamborghini. He didn’t seem to want to leave my side. Jonny started the car just as some of the boys started vomiting behind us.

“Oh yeah. Uh, this is a toxic waste dump. Without the vaccine, everyone here will die within half an hour.”

“Better get everyone out.”

Jonny beeped three times and the boys started moving faster into their vehicles. For a moment I thought of Ivy, all alone again, and felt my heart break a little. But I shoved that aside when I saw vines carry my bags outside and dump them on the ground. I frowned, though I noticed that the boys were still taking the time to grab my things, and turned to focus on J.

“Really, though. What if I didn’t want to go back home with you?”

“Baby girl. You’re not listening to me. I would have found a way to bring you home. No matter the cost.”

“You’d have done anything I asked?”

“I already did.”

I looked at him, somewhat shocked. But he was right. He didn’t kill Ivy, though it was clear how much he’d wanted to. Not only had Ivy hidden me, she’d also actively tried to prevent me from leaving. But at my request, he’d holstered his gun and sworn not to hurt her. And then he promised not to punish me. My demands were made and he’d met them without complaint.

“Oh, Puddin’!” I wrapped my arms around him and crawled into his lap, kissing him recklessly, “I love you so much.”

“And I you, my little one.”


	50. Chapter 50

I had to go back to the Toybox today. I just had to. It had been too long since I’d been in, and I needed to see Laurie. I needed to watch some of the video of Chris. I was also hoping to work with Uncle Bob a bit. 

First, I just watched some video. Chris hasn’t started to lose it just yet, though I think he might be hitting a precipice. But then I went into the cold room. She jumped when I entered the room, cocking her head to listen, “Who’s there? Harley?”

I grinned.  _ So, you’ve been expecting me every time, have you? Perfect. _

I walked closer, staying silent until I got close enough and put one hand on her shoulder. She shrieked and I laughed. When she heard my  voice, she started to shiver from more than just cold, “It’s you.”

“It is.”

"Are you going to kill me?"

"I am," I said simply.

And before she could say another word, I stabbed through her ear with an ice pick, twisting the handle about to scramble her brains. It was so very satisfying. After I left the room and told Dil that the cold room needed to be cleaned, I instructed him to bring my uncle to the medieval torture room.

When he was pushed into the room by two other guys, he was looking about in horror. Dark eyes swept over all the instruments in the room, growing wider as they viewed each new apparatus. When his eyes finally lighted on me, I waved with a huge grin, “Uncle Bob! It’s so good to see you!”

“Harleen?”

“Ugh. Yes. Who the hell else would I be? Like, … duh.”

“What am I doing here? Did you take my wife?”

“And your kids and I had your grandkids killed too.”

“You ... what?”

“Are you deaf or something?”

“You’re lying.”

“Nope. I hate liars.”

“No one could do such things.”

“It’s amazing what you can become when your family acts like you’re an alien.”

“So you’re blaming this on them?”

“On all of you.”

“I never said -”

“You stood silent. You watched. You never spoke out for me. You never tried to help.”

“And for that I deserve -”

“You deserve far worse than what I’m going to do to you.”

“What are you going to do?”

I gestured to the Iron Maiden and he began to fight against his bonds. The boys brought him forward as I opened the torture device, exposing the dozens of spikes set in precise rows. They struggled to get him stood inside, as he was a large man, but eventually, they were able to get the device closed and I locked it tight. Bob was screaming in pain, weeping. I pressed the button for the intercom inside the coffin-like structure, “Right now you’re as safe as you can be, Uncle Bob. Those spikes are keeping all the blood inside your body. What you need to be afraid of is when I come back and open it up again. That’s when you die. Oh, and by the way, Melinda, Dave, and Jess are all dead. Chris is in the middle of his own torture. And I just killed Laurie. You made the wrong choice when you married into the Nelson family because I’m wiping it out. That includes you.”

I left the room while he was still begging.

I had Angela and Judy, Laurie’s sister and mother, and I hadn’t started with them yet. Since everything had gone so quickly this morning and the monster wasn’t exactly feeling satiated, I decided to bring them out into the knife room. I had the boys tie them to chairs before I entered and when I  did, I was skipping.

“Auntie Judy, cousin Angela it’s so good to see you! First things first, yes, it’s me,  lil ole Harley. And I have some unfortunate news for you. I’m sure you’ve noticed that all your family has slowly been disappearing. Well, that’s me! I’m  gonna kill you all.”

"You?" Judy's blue eyes were wide with terror, staring in shock, "You've killed -"

"Everyone, yep. In fact, I just took care of Laurie."

Angela wept to the point of shaking, "How could you -"

"Simple," I interrupted, "I thought about all the ways the family tortured me for years and I decided to pay you back."

"What we did is nothing compared to murder!" Angela yelled.

"They did nothing to you, you psycho!" Judy screeched.

"You watched them torture me. Use silence as a weapon and throw looks like daggers. You heard the words they said. You knew I was an innocent child who'd done nothing to deserve what I was forced through. ... There's no innocence in any of you so you definitely deserve everything that's coming your way."

"My children -" Angela started.

"They're already dead, Angie. I had my henchmen take them out."

Her scream was wordless but spoke volumes. The sound of a broken mother.

"They're babies," Judy's voice was quiet, a dreadful sort of awe; wonder at how far a human could go for payback. "Just babies."

"And now they're dead. See, I'm ending the Nelson line. I've been saying that a lot lately, but I want to make it clear to all of you. What you did to me ended with the slaughter of everyone in your family. This blood is on your hands as much as it's on mine."

"You monster." Angela wept with hatred.

"Oh, you wanna see a monster? I can show you a monster."

"Leave her alone," Judy half ordered, half begged.

"Don't tell me what to do, Auntie. I can drag out your torture just like I did your husband's."

"Tom?" she whispered.

"Shot him in the gut and left him overnight. Too bad he died before I could get back to him. Then there's what I did to Laurie. She spent her time in a room so cold her skin had a blue sheen when I shoved the icepick through her ear."

Judy screamed and Angela just continued weeping. 

The monster took over. She hadn’t seen enough blood and was desperate for it. Before I could think about what I was doing, I had a knife in my hand and walked over to Angela. My other hand gripped her forehead, pulled it back, and I sliced her throat in one smooth motion. Judy screamed louder as Angela’s blood spurted all over her.  ~~_Now_ ** _she_** _looks like Carrie._ ~~

“Oops. Sorry, auntie. Should I have taken my time with her like I did with Laurie?”

Judy just shrieked and cried.  “You monster! You _monster_!”

“Yep. And you contributed to making me one. Feels good, doesn’t it, Judy?”

She wouldn’t stop shrieking. She wouldn’t stop screaming. And I didn’t look forward to torturing her anymore. I just wanted her dead. So, I plunged the knife I’d just used to kill Angela into her throat. Her screams turned to gurgles before they stopped completely.  _ At least now she’s quiet. _

I realized that I’d just completed killing off the Marcus clan. Tom and Judy, Laurie and Angela. Angela’s family had been killed today as well, but Laurie’s was wiped out days ago. They were all gone. 

I’ve really torn through my list. Maybe I should try to slow down. If only the monster would let me.


	51. Chapter 51

It was back to the Smile and Grin tonight, another of J’s guys wanting to pay respects was scheduled. At least, that’s what I expected. Instead, a beautiful young woman of Korean ethnicity arrived about an hour after we did. 

“J!” she smiled warmly as she walked in and sat in our booth, “So good to see you!”

“Isabel.” he nodded in greeting.

She looked to me, “And you must be the infamous Harley Quinn.”

“That’s me.” I grinned, then looked to my daddy. “I  wanna go dance.”

“Whatever your little heart desires, baby girl.”

I got up from the booth and walked around the VIP area out into the crowd. Then I went to one of the glass boxes where one of the strippers was dancing, gold mask on her face. I opened the door and climbed in with her, shutting the door behind me quickly.

“Ariana,” I smiled, putting my hands on her shoulders and mimicking her movements. She smiled back, knowing from previous evenings that her job was now to dance with me. This wasn’t the first time I’d gotten into a box to dance with one of the girls. But unlike other nights, I didn’t plan to take over by myself. I just wanted to dance with her a bit.

I ran my hands down her body until they reached her hips, then I gripped and guided her the way I wanted her to move with me. We dipped down and swerved, twisting our hips as we stood back up. Her lithe form maneuvered fluidly like a waterfall’s dancing spray, matching me exactly the way I wanted her to. I hadn’t danced with Ariana before, but I’m planning to dance with her again. Not only is she just fun to watch, she matches me well. Much better than some of the other girls I’ve danced with before. It’s like she knows exactly what I’m going to do next, like she can intuit what I’m thinking. She also doesn’t have that sheen of fear some of the girls have failed to hide. It’s no fun dancing with someone who is trying to shroud their jittery shaking. They’re more concerned with how they appear to be than just having fun. And I like to enjoy myself.

We danced through three songs before I exited the booth, much to the chagrin of some of the patrons, who murmured unhappily when I stepped out. No one would meet my eyes though. They knew that anyone disrespecting the queen would find their lives quickly and neatly shortened. I bopped my way to the bar and picked up a Harley Quinn from Benny before making my way back to the booth where Puddin’ was waiting. When I walked up, he and Isabel were deep in discussion over whatever it is she does for him. 

“No, we brought it out. Couldn’t leave it there once we knew -”

J nodded, “Right. And the building?”

“Burned to the ground. Quite the pile of rubble left behind, but there’s no trace of us.”

“Good. I would hate for anyone to discover what we had been doing there.”

“No one will make the connection, boss. We wiped the building before torching it.”

He nodded again, then looked to me, “You looked delicious out there, Pumpkin Pie.”

“Thanks,  Puddin ’.” I beamed. 

Isabel smiled at me in a way that made it clear she had enjoyed watching me dance as well. Seeing that look on her face made me feel even more alluring than I normally do. She is such a beautiful woman. Ebony hair flat ironed to smooth silken strands. Flawless tawny beige skin. Dark eyes that draw you into their depth like an undersea cavern. Wearing a red Dior mini dress that complimented her natural curves and a matching red lipstick. 

_ I wonder what she tastes like. _

I smiled back at her as I moved to sit down next to  Puddin ’, sipping my drink once before placing it on the table in front of me. “ Whatcha talkin ’ about?”

“Just business,” replied J. 

I leaned over to whisper in his ear, “I want her to come home with us.”

He shook his head, which I knew meant “not this one.” Only certain members of J’s crew were allowed to know the location of the Penthouse. It was a level of honor, a merit badge that must be earned through years of hard work. Clearly Isabel had not put in the work. It was the only reason I’d asked, otherwise I would have just openly said she was coming back with us. But I’d entered the space of a submissive asking her  dom for something she wanted. And then was told no. I don’t like to be told no.

“But I want her.” I whispered, yet still managed a whiney tone. 

“Here.” he quietly replied.  _ Why does it always have to be  _ _ here _ _? _ __

The privacy of Ivy’s had been nice. It’s not that I care about being watched, or even being loud in a public place. It’s just that sometimes being in a quiet room is better than a noisy club. Sometimes I want the quiet so I can focus better. Sometimes I just want to get my own damn way.

But I knew that once Daddy had put his foot down, there was no swaying him.  So, I resigned myself to sex in the club again. I looked over at Isabel and smiled salaciously. Then I stood and made my way over to her, sitting next to her closely and placing my hand on her leg.

“Do you want me?” 

Her eyes had been on me from the moment I’d reentered the booth, but at that very  second, she nervously looked to J. His expression was intense, staring, and I don’t think she understood it correctly. I felt her tremble beneath my fingers.

“I know better than to ask for something that belongs to J.”

I took her chin in my other hand and turned her face to mine, “Your queen asked you a question.”

Dark eyes flicked between mine, left to right and back, and she swallowed, “I … you … and … I mean … well … yes.” The final word was whispered, evident that she didn’t want to answer but knew she must.

A smile spread across my features and I quickly moved to kiss her. She startled beneath my touch and responded stiffly at first. But soon she melted and kissed me back. Her lips were soft and gentle. There was a sweetness to her, not as in flavor, but in how she acted. I slid my hand along her neck to curl my fingers in her hair. Not grabbing or pulling, just a soft grasp that held raven strands loosely. My tongue flicked forward, encouraging her to open her mouth and she responded as I wanted her to. Her tongue met mine and swirled against it. 

As I deepened the kiss, I heard J’s breathing grow heavier. I let my other hand trail down the edge of her dress, grazing over her tits as I went. I pulled her closer to me with the hand fisted in her hair and let my other hand palpate her tit softly. I didn’t want to be rough. For some reason, being rough with girls isn’t my thing. I like to be roughed up by my daddy, but most of the time I don’t want to be vicious with other girls. Maybe it’s their inherent softness that makes me want to be soft with them. Either way, I wasn’t in the mood to hurt Isabel.

Before long I had her lying on her back in the booth, underwear on the floor, my mouth buried in her pussy. I thrust my tongue in and out of her, making her moan quietly. She seemed to not want any kind of attention from any of the club's patrons, as she was far quieter than anyone  else I’d been with. When I stuck my finger in my mouth and inserted it, she jumped.

“No fingers.” she said, squirming, “I don’t like fingers.”

“She’ll do what she wants,” J answered. Not maliciously, but in a tone that brooked no arguments.

But I did as she asked. I wanted her to enjoy our time together. It gave me pleasure to know I was giving her pleasure. I wanted to make her feel good. So, I kept my fingers to myself and used my tongue until it hurt. I licked her clit, flicking my tongue against it. I continued to thrust my tongue in and out of her. I made her groan and sigh and cry out. I wanted to enjoy it more than I did. But while her taste wasn’t unpleasant, it was nothing like Ivy. Ivy tastes unbelievable. Isabel tastes like a woman. There’s nothing wrong with it, in fact, I find the taste of a woman to be delectable. But Ivy is something else. It’s not just the garden of her skin, there’s something more to her. Something just incredibly intoxicating.

It bothered me that I was thinking about Ivy and my tongue was feeling sore, so I sat up and picked up Isabel’s thong from the floor and tossed it to her. She was breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling, somewhat out of it. I wiped my mouth and stood up, walking over to sit on Daddy’s lap. I didn’t want her to reciprocate. When she sat up, she looked at me with glassy eyes and I giggled.

“You  _ enjoy _ yourself, Isabel?” I asked, watching her with a smirk.

“Yeah...” she murmured dreamily.

I looked to Frankie, and he knew without a word what I wanted. He stepped into the booth and took Isabel by the arm, lifting her to her feet. 

“Wait,” she said, looking from him to me, “I wanted to -”

“What you want doesn’t matter,” J snapped. 

Dark eyes widened and she fought to control her expression, “No. No, of course not.”

Then she looked to me and smiled, “Thank you, Harley.”

“There’s a good girl.” I snickered.

Once Frankie had guided her out of the VIP area, I turned on J’s lap and pushed him back against the booth. I shifted and placed my knees on either side of him, grabbing his face with my hands and kissing him passionately.

“I need you,” I moaned, “Now.”

I didn’t have to say anything else. He fussed with his zipper and was inside me within seconds. I settled myself down fully, taking his entire length inside with a guttural groan. Then I began to bounce, sliding myself up and down his shaft, coating him with my juices. I sighed, tossing my head back and letting my hair hang down past my ass. 

He dug his fingers into my hips, gripping painfully and making me moan from the pain. “More,” I begged.

One hand released my hip and slapped me hard across the face. I cried out from the pleasure of the pain. He always knows exactly what I want.  _ My perfect Daddy. _

He gripped my hips again, urging me faster in my movements. We fucked until I came countless times, catching the attention of a few patrons before they realized who they were looking at and hurried to look anywhere else. J came hard and I collapsed into his arms, tired and just wanting to sleep. He had Frankie take me home and put me to bed.


	52. Chapter 52

It was another day at the Toybox for me. The first place I went was the medieval room. I crossed to the Iron Maiden and pressed the button to speak to my uncle, “Good morning, Bob! I hope you had a pleasant evening. I know I did.” 

The only reply from inside came in the form of quiet weeping. 

“Nothing to say, Uncle Bob? These would be your last words, you know.” 

“Just get it over with.” 

“Oh hey, Laurie asked me the same thing. I made her wait.” 

Part of me wanted to. Let him stew and cry and remain trapped inside the coffin that’s slowly killing him yet also keeping him alive. But the monster was stronger. She was chanting inside my head, lowly at first. But the sound started to grow until I couldn’t ignore it anymore, a cacophony spinning around my brain. ~~_Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD._ ~~ I opened the locks on the Iron Maiden and opened the chamber quickly, watching Bob’s body slide off the spikes and collapse to the floor. He shivered as he exsanguinated from every puncture. 

~~_BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD._ ** _DEEEAAAATTHH._** ~~ I smacked myself on the side of the head with the heel of my palm a couple times. 

“Shut up already!” I squatted near the body, watching as the life poured out of him. “He’s dyin’, see? Can you just be quiet now?!” I snapped at the voice in my head. 

It took longer than I thought it would; waiting for those ragged breaths to stop. First, I was rid of the Marcuses, and all that’s left of the Johannsens now is Chris, hidden away in the white room. I’ll be checking in with him soon enough. But today was saved for someone special. 

I had her brought to the knife room. My plan was to take my time, really drive home just how much she was at fault as well. Just as much as the others. I walked in to see Anne Nelson for the second time in my life. 

“Well, hi there, step-mommy. It’s so good to see you.” 

“Harleen?!” 

“It’s Harley now. I left Harleen behind, drowning in a vat of chemicals.” 

“What?” 

“What?” I paused, “Have you noticed, step-mommy, that all of your husband’s family members have been disappearing? What did you think of how I left Gramps?” 

“That was you? You -” 

“Monster, yes, I know. That’s what all of you have said. You’re all quite boring, you know that? All saying the same things, asking the same questions, begging for your lives. But none of you are getting out of here alive. All that’s left of the Nelson line is Chris, you, Henry, and dear old Dad. Everyone else is already dead.” 

“You killed them all?” she asked, horrified. 

“Yep. Some of them I had my boys dispose of. But the core of you were mine. All the ones who tortured me in my youth, they get the same right back.” 

“But the babies. They never did anything. Chris’s daughter was only -” 

“Yeah, I don’t give a shit. They were born into the wrong family, so they had to die.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Of course, I can. Do you want to see proof? I have video of everyone’s death so far. The torture they went through. I just killed Uncle Bob, wanna go see the body?” 

“Oh my God.” 

I shook my head viciously as I crossed over to her, squatting in front of the chair she was tied to. “There is no ‘God,’ step-mommy. None but my Mistah J. … I can introduce you if you really wanna meet a god in person.” 

She stared at me, then cautiously asked, “Who...” 

“You ever heard of the Joker?” 

Her eyes widened. You didn’t have to live in Gotham to know who the Joker was. He was an internationally renowned supervillian. But it always tickled me to ask, as if there was a chance the answer could be ‘no.’ And hearing that members of my family knew of J tickled me even more. “You … _know_ … the -” 

“Yep. He’s my Puddin’. Love of my life.” 

“You’re in _love_ with that psycho?” 

I didn’t like the disdain in her voice. I didn’t like what she called my Daddy. My eyes narrowed and I rose from my position before backhanding her harshly, “Don’t you ever disrespect the King of Gotham you sniveling little peasant.” 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, the terror in her palpable. “I’m sorry.” 

“Ha. Sure, you are.” I shook my head, “You’re just scared. And you should be. Because I’ve got a doozy of a day planned out for you.” I leaned down to her level, right next to her ear, “And tomorrow I have one hell of a plan for Henry.” 

“No.” She denied in a whisper, “No, please.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” I frowned, “Henry is a Nelson and I’m wiping the Nelsons out. You never should have married into this family, cuz it made you a Nelson too.” 

I pulled a long, ornate wooden case off a shelf and opened it, revealing thin, sharp needles. She begged and pleaded, promised me the world, but still I used those needles to pierce between her nails and her flesh, then twisted and swiped until they were separated from their beds. I proceeded to use pliers to rip off each one of her twenty nails. I thought about stabbing the needles into her eyes, but I wanted her to see everything that was going to happen to her. 

There was a particularly mean-looking dagger on the wall and I pulled it down after dropping the pliers on the table next to the case of needles. She was reduced to snot-nosed sobbing, the weeping of the tormented, of someone who knew her suffering was long from over. And the monster in me just reveled in it. 

I carved words in her like I had my grandparents. This time, though, I carved things like “bitch,” “cunt,” “evil whore” … whatever happened to come to mind as I went. She stole the life Mama should have gotten. The loving husband, the extended family that adored her and her child. Anne didn’t deserve the life she had and I was going to punish her for every second of it. Once I was done my carving, I told her I had a special concoction for her wounds. 

I pulled the generic glass jar over to me, a light-colored paste inside. After getting a handful of the homebrewed mixture, I proceeded to rub it into her cuts, raising her sobs to pain-filled shrieking, “Did I forget to mention … it’s a lovely medley of salt and lemon juice.” 

She’d screamed for hours, until her voice grew hoarse, but still she found a way to wail. I hadn’t fully settled on how I wanted to kill her yet. She began begging me to end it, and that made me determined to find one more way to torture her before her death. I decided to grab a set of spiked brass knuckles with curved blades coming off either side from the wall and beat her bloody. I smashed my fist into her repeatedly, all over her body, occasionally nicking her skin with one of the blades. Hundreds of punctures. By the time I was done she was a bloody mess, only able to moan incoherently. Then I used one of the curved blades to slice her throat, watching her bleed out with a smile. I turned to the camera that had been recording the entire event and blew a kiss at the lens, grinning over my victory. 


	53. Chapter 53

J had plans for tonight, more of his revenge on Batman and the city, but I didn’t want to go out. I’ve been thinking about the Playroom lately and I wanted to take him up on an offer he’d made me weeks ago. 

“I know we’re supposed to go lift some R&D from Wayne Enterprises tonight, Puddin’, but do you maybe think we can put that off until tomorrow?”

“Why?” he wasn’t impressed with my asking.

“I  wanna use some of your guys.”

“For what?”

“For fun.”

He chuckled, “My Queen, you know you can do whatever you wish. I’m happy to let you take as many boys as you want. But you don’t need me to be there with you; you’re a big girl.”

I pouted, “You don’t want to watch?”

“ Of course, I do, my love. But like you know, Daddy has plans. And I know this isn’t the last time you’ll be having your fun with our boys. We’ll have plenty of opportunities for me to watch you reign over the men worshipping you. Tonight, though, depends on timing. I can’t reschedule. So, I’ll go out with Johnny and a few others you haven’t chosen. Did you want Frankie?”

“He can go with you. Don’t get me wrong, he’s an amazing lay, but I’d rather he be backing you up tonight.”

“Of course, my girl.” he kissed me deeply until I sighed and felt my knees weaken. Then he left me in his office to look through his file of employees so I could pick out who I wanted. He texted the ones I chose and told me they would meet me downstairs in the Playroom when I was ready.

It didn’t take me long to get prepared. I decided to go lighter on the makeup, knowing I’d likely look like a mess by the end of the night, and wore a light blue bra and thong set that matched my eyes. Then I found a sheer robe and threw on a pair of gold heels and clicked my way to the second elevator. 

Even though I hadn’t taken long, the five boys I’d picked out were already waiting for me in the yellow room. It was sort of a spectator room, set up with built in seating around a white cushioned table. It was one of the only ones that were big enough for the number of men I was meeting up with. 

There weren’t a lot of words exchanged. They knew who I was and quickly introduced themselves. I learned their names were Ollie, Tony, Ash, Les, and Mikey. They’d worked together before on occasion but didn’t belong to the same core group. I’d never laid eyes on any of them before, but I wasn’t worried. 

“Ground rules: 1) you’re here for me. I don’t give a shit if you cum, this is about my enjoyment.”

They nodded. I continued, “2) if you do cum, don’t do it on me. You can cum in me, on the table, the floor, hell on each other for all I care. But do  _ not _ cum on me.”

They nodded again, saying things like “got it.”

“3) I don’t do ass-to-mouth.”

More solemn nodding. “4) there will be no spanking, scratching, hair pulling, pinching, any form of pain from any of you. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” I grinned, “Now let’s have some fun.”

It wasn’t always easy to keep track of who was doing what. I took off the robe, followed by my bra and thong and tossed them on a bench while they undressed. Mikey laid on the table and I climbed on top of him, lowering my hungry cunt onto his thick cock. I lowered myself on top of him and felt someone come up behind me, using a copious amount of lube on my asshole before using a lube covered finger to slide inside. Whoever it was, he knew exactly how to prep for anal. While Mikey pumped in and out of me, he slowly increased fingers until I was crying out from the pleasure of it. He removed his fingers and I felt the tip of his cock pressing at my asshole. He entered slowly and began to match the opposite of Mikey’s thrusting. The seesaw, in one hole, out the other and then again but backwards, felt absolutely incredible. I moaned until I found Les’s cock in front of my face and I quickly sucked it into my mouth.

While gripping a cock in each hand, pumping them quickly, I bobbed my head up and down on Les’s cock, taking so much of him inside that I gagged and yanked backwards. I managed to not catch him with my teeth and blinked past the tears in my eyes so I could go back to messily sucking on his cock. I don’t know how long it was before they started to switch. Time passed differently in that room. I was lost in pleasure and it was a little disappointing to not feel the pain along with it. But I didn’t want any of these guys thinking they could get away with hurting the Queen, even if it was in the process of pleasing me. There was no one on this planet who was allowed to hurt me other than the King. And everyone knew it. 

They kept to the rules and no one approached my mouth for a blow job once he’d been inside my ass. I’d swapped positions a bunch of times. They had me on my back, lying on top of the guy in my ass while I took on the other four as masterfully as I could. My head hanging down reminded me of the first time I’d been in the Playroom. They flipped me so I was in a 69 position, the man below me eating my pussy while I was being forcefully fucked in the ass. At one point I turned sideways and used one arm to hold my head while they circled me, taking turns with all of my orifices. They’d had me cumming so much my legs felt completely soaked. They were each showered with my juices in turn and they all seemed to be pretty happy about it. I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t enjoy squirting. Either that, or one of these guys was really good at hiding it.

I can’t begin to explain just how extraordinary of an experience it was. The men didn’t matter, their size didn’t matter, I found pleasure in each of them. I even enjoyed giving them handjobs. I was surrounded by cocks and I loved every second. There really is nothing like double penetration, being so completely filled by cock. No matter how their thrusts vary, it feels amazing. When they match, moving in and out in unison, it’s like being fucked by one massive cock. When one stays still and the other doesn’t, the feeling of one part of me staying the same level of fullness, while the other hole is pounded recklessly, is practically heavenly. When they see-saw, moving opposite of each other, it’s like being given a gift - a level of pleasure I’d never reached before. It was all absolutely incredible, but still not as good as my best nights with J.

At one point I took Ash and Tony in my cunt, had Ollie in my ass, and I swapped back and forth on Les and Mikey with my mouth. Other than  that one instance, I literally could not keep track of who was where. And I didn’t care. It didn’t matter to me who was the one thrusting in my ass, who was in my mouth, or who’s cocks I had in my hands, all I cared about was how amazing it all felt. The little girl in me was so deliriously happy that even she couldn’t form coherent thoughts in my head.

It was going so well. We’d been fucking for hours, the six of us, and having five men’s focus be lasered in on me and how to make me feel good left me feeling hoarse from joyous screaming. I was reveling in the intense pleasure, enjoying using their cocks for my benefit, for nothing but my own enjoyment. But then one of them had to go and ruin it. 

I was lost in bliss, hitting the peak of my orgasm and screaming around the  cock in my mouth when it happened. I felt it just before hearing the  _ CRACK  _ of the slap on my ass __ and was immediately incensed.

I moved faster than any of the other boys could react, though they all did immediately. There was a button  Puddin ’ had told me about and my hand found it on the side of the table, depressing it and pulling out the drawer that popped open. I yanked out the Ruger-57 and cocked it as I swung it upside down over my head. One click of the trigger and I felt his cock sliding out of my ass before I heard the body hit the floor. The “oh  shit”s of the four remaining men barely even entered my brain as I climbed off the table and glared down at Les’s body. My bullet had hit him right in the head.  _ Nice shot.  _ I clicked the trigger three more times, holes exploding in his face, before dropping the gun on the table with an aggravated growl.

He’d ruined my mood. It had been going so well; I was having so much fun. And he had to go and ruin it. I said nothing as I grabbed my clothes and heels and stalked out of the yellow room, back to the elevator. I was just so angry.

I wound up going to bed, writing this entry, and eating a very large bowl of ice cream while waiting for J to get back. 


	54. Chapter 54

I called Tommy first thing this morning and told him to clear his schedule because I was about to get the biggest  tattoo he’s given me. He never even mentioned how pissed off his other clients would be. We both knew J would take care of them however they needed in order to shut up about the delay in their own tattoos. Tommy was in the Penthouse before 10 AM and it took him a little while to get set up. There were photos to take, to be transferred into stencils before we finally found the right one and he sat down to begin hours of work. By the time he was done, I sported my own eyes and the words “I’m Watching” on my lower back. He covered up the tattoo with plastic and was packing up his kit when I wandered out of the third bedroom and through the Penthouse. I found myself in the kitchen and stopped to peruse the fridge, plucking out a container of lo  mien and proceeding to chow down. J walked in behind me, taking a look at Tommy’s handiwork.

“Not bad,” he said.

“I like it.” 

“It’s almost too bad you killed Les so quickly. I’d love to have gotten my hands on him in the Toybox.” he sounded so dark, so dangerous. So angry. I’d never seen him as infuriated as I had last night. He’d exploded into thunderous cursing when I’d told him and broken a number of items in his rage.

“I wasn’t going to let that stand.”

“As well you  shouldn’t .”

“I never did ask how it went last night.”

“Splendidly. We wound up getting more than what we originally planned. It should  affect many areas of Gotham and Metropolis both.”

“Explain to me again why you’re trying to make Gotham and Metropolis hate each other more?” Thus far the majority of his payback had been about finding ways to sow hatred in the two cities. The poisoning of the water supply hadn’t just been about killing Gothamites. J knew Batman would find a way to redirect the tainted water, and he knew what Bats would likely choose to save his city by any means necessary. Poisoning the river, and thus ruining the fishing enterprises along the coast, was meant to harm both cities. The shooting stations were places that either directly connected to Metropolis or at the very least had their citizens on location, many of them high ranking citizens. All the different things he’d done hurt Gotham, but they also hurt our neighbor.

Crystal blue eyes sparkled as he spoke, “Chaos.”

“God, I love you.”

“And I you, my dear.

“You sure you wanna go back to the Smile and Grin tonight?”

“What else would we do?”

“Have a night in? Smash and grab in the diamond district? Maybe rob a bank or two?”

He grinned at me, but shook his head, “Not tonight, little one.”

So, we went back to the club. Unlike other nights, there was no meeting set up for him. No one looking to check-in or congratulate him on getting out of the asylum. He just wanted to be out, ruling over his domain. The Black Mask Club wouldn’t be enough; no, he needed to be reigning over his realm. And nothing was more  publicly his than the Smile and Grin.

Benny kept the liquor flowing all night and I spent ages dancing. I even got Frankie to dance with me for a little while. And took a turn on my own in one of the glass boxes. There is something intoxicating about having all eyes on me, knowing that I’m turning on more than one person with my performance. Then not caring what anyone thinks and getting lost in the music, just burying myself in what I’m doing. 

I know that no matter what I’m under the watchful eye of my Daddy. His gaze is always on me, always enthralled with what I’m doing. I can feel his eyes on me as I move, as my hips sway and I dip low. He is my everything and I am his. 

After spending what he decided was long enough at the club, we went back home to the Penthouse and climbed into the tub. And we just had fun. He held my hair while I held my breath and dove below the surface to take his thick cock into my mouth. I bobbed as long as I could, swiping my tongue on his most sensitive of places before coming up for air. He let me suck in just enough before he had me back in the water, taking him into my mouth again. By the time he was ready to pull me onto his lap, my lungs were burning from all the times he’d pushed me to my limits. 

He held me close, dropping his mouth to my nipple, licking circles with the tip of his tongue before he sucked it into his mouth and bit down harshly. I cried out joyously, tossing my head back in rapture. I buried my hands in his hair and just held on for dear life. He nibbled and rolled it between his teeth, driving each little spike of pain directly to my pussy.

I just wanted him inside me. My cunt ached horribly and I was feeling desperate for him. “Please,” I begged, “Daddy, please. I need you inside me.”

“You do?” his tone was one of teasing shock.

I wriggled in his hold, trying to lower myself, but he held me tight. “Yes,” I hissed. “Please?”

“Silly girl. You know how wrong it is for daddies to fuck their little princesses.”

He’d never played like this before. It was a mood I hadn’t seen from him, and it was actually adorably enjoyable. But I was hungry and didn’t like being held off.

“But you love it.” I kissed him, thrilled that he responded as he always had, with wild abandon. “Your little girl needs her daddy to help her.”

“What kind of help do you need, little girl?”

“It hurts, daddy.”

“Oh, princess.” He kissed me again, drawing my tongue into his mouth before breaking the kiss, “What’s hurting my little love?”

“My pussy. Only my daddy can fix it.”

Strong hands moved against my back, squeezing me closer, “We shouldn’t, little one.”

“ _ Please. _ ” I begged, “I don’t care if it’s wrong or we shouldn’t be together. We’ve always known we shouldn’t be together.” I dropped the game and just begged, “I need you. Please, J.  _ Please _ .”

“My queen,” he whispered, releasing his hold just enough that I was able to drop down on his lap, lowering my hand into the water so I could grip him and guide him inside. The second his tip hit my opening, I was sliding him all the way in, burying him completely.

The sound I made was one I’ve never made before. It was like a  guttural sigh, a desperation lifted. My hands braced on his shoulders as I moved on him, holding on for dear life. It was everything I needed, a perfection I needed for my solution. He fit me perfectly, filling my cunt the way that only he does. I moaned loudly as I bucked my hips and then felt his hands on them, guiding me the way he wanted.

“Daddy,” I groaned in pleasure.

“My perfect little girl.” his breathing hitched and I knew he was enjoying himself just as much as I was. 

He wrapped his hand in my hair and yanked backward while shoving me with his other hand until I was buried in the water. He held me under while he thrust in and out of me, leaving me holding my breath with lungs that had only just barely recovered from last time. It was incredible. The bliss of his onslaught on my cunt, the pain of him pulling on my roots harshly, the loud rush of the jacuzzi jets, the mild desperation for air that begins shortly before the added pain of burning lungs, it all stitched together to form one of the best moments of my life.

I came countless times in the hour-plus that we fucked. He finished twice. I  _ love _ when he keeps going after he’s cum. It’s like a special treat. 

Every time with him is a treat. No one else will ever make me feel as good as he does. Not even five guys at once can come close. My Daddy is everything and I will never have enough.


	55. Chapter 55

I was excited when I woke up this morning. I’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time. It’s Henry Day!

Today is the day I finally kill my brother.

First things first, though. Find the perfect outfit. I searched my closet high and low before deciding on my Daddy’s Lil Monster shirt and matching hotpants. I figured it would be a little twist of the knife to the preteen or however-the-fuck-old-he-is asshole. 

I put my hair in pigtails and did my makeup perfectly. I wanted to look as great as possible, feel as great as possible, on this wonderful day.

I drove myself to the Toybox in the  Quinnmobile , squealing across Gotham’s streets as I did. Even though it’s Henry Day, I decided to start by checking on Chris. 

“Good morning, cousin!” I said brightly as I entered the room. His eyes turned to me and widened, staring at my form, drinking in the bright colors after seeing nothing but white. He wasn’t quite insane yet, but I was kind of over waiting. Besides, if I wanted to torture my father with video of his nephew’s death, the man had to die. That was my father’s current punishment. Endless loops of all the torture and murders of every member of his family. He spends his days and nights with the TV constantly going, loud enough to prevent sleep, depicting the horrors inflicted on those he loved.

“Guess what time it is?”

He didn’t answer. I think after weeks of silence, weeks of nothing but white, maybe he  _ had _ started going a little crazy. “ Chriiiiiiis ,” I  singsonged , “Wakey wakey.”

He stared at me, still drinking in all the colors I offered, and mumbled, “Who’re...”

“Don’t you recognize me, cousin? You certainly knew how to kill me with a look when we were kids.”

“Harlee-” he really was mumbling.

“Hey, you’re the first one to call me by the right name since I started all this! I  _ am _ Harley, you’re right, Chris! Good job.” I smirked and decided to toy with him, “Can you guess something else? … Can you guess what’s been happening to your family?”

“My family,” tears filled his eyes. “What … what …"

“They’re all dead, Chrissy. All of them. Your children. Your wife. Even the family dog.”

He wailed, a deep broken sound that reverberated around the white room. I pulled my Chiappa Rhino 60 DS from the holster I wore and leveled it at him and asked again, “Guess what time it is?”

He just wept. I rolled my eyes and shot him in the foot. That’s when he finally began to scream. He looked down at the wound and couldn’t look away. How deep the red of his blood, splattered against the white floor. And he was still desperately absorbing any and all color before his eyes. 

With a giggle, I shot his other foot. “ Oooo , what do you think, Chrissy? How many times can I shoot you before you die?”

“You  _ fucking _ psycho!” he roared.

“Found your voice at last, huh?” 

It was incredibly fun, emptying my gun and reloading so I could torture this sorry excuse for a sad sack. I shot his ankles out next, dancing internally to the music of his howling. He fought against his bonds (I’d had the guys tie him up before I arrived) and continued to bellow. 

“You’ll never get away with this!” he hollered.

I laughed maliciously, “Of course, I will. You think anyone is going to stop me? Do you even know what state you’re in right now?”

Green eyes widened, “Where have you taken me?”

“You’re in Gotham. In a lovely building owned by the Joker.”

“The  _ Joker _ ?!” I shot his left knee and he shrieked.

“The one and only.”

It took him a minute to fight against his screaming before he could form words, “What the hell are we -”

“Doing here? How did I manage to drag the worthless blood relatives of mine out of their beds and into this den of torture belonging to the King of Gotham? Easy.” I grinned wide, leaning towards him with malevolence, “I’m his Queen.”

“What?” he recoiled in horror, “You and … and the Jo... Joker?”

I giggled, absolutely reveling in his turmoil. “He’s the love of my life. And he’d do anything for me.”

“Why? Why would you -” I clicked the trigger and sent a bullet into his right knee

“Don’t you get it Chrissy?” I bounced from foot to foot in a tiny mimic of a dance. “I’m completely 100% off my rocker. I fell in love with the Joker, jumped into a vat of chemicals, and went absolutely  _ insane _ . What you all put me through left me in the perfect place for all of this to happen. If I hadn’t been such a tortured  soul, he might not have seen himself in me. If I hadn’t been so broken, I might not have needed his love so desperately. All of this? It’s because of you.”

“No.”

“You. And Dave. And Jess. And our other cousins. They’re all dead now.” I shifted right to left before finding the right sight line and shot his hip. He screeched, eyes rolling from the pain.

“You can’t mean -”

“You, Henry, and my father are all that is left of the Nelson line.”

“I’m not a Nelson.”

I burst out laughing at that. None of the others had come close to trying this tactic. “Your mother was. Makes you one too. … It didn’t matter for any of the others. I killed your wife for being stupid enough to marry into the family. I’ve meticulously destroyed every last thread of this family line, and you insisting that you’re not a Nelson isn’t going to stop me.” I shot his other hip for annoying me.

“That mean … you’re  gonna kill yourself when you’re done?”

I scowled and shot both his hands, “Fuck you. All of you made damn sure I knew I wasn’t a Nelson. Every chance you all had, you made sure I knew I was different. That I didn’t belong. Well, now I’m damn sure. I’m not a Nelson. I’m not even a Quinzel. I’m Harley Fucking Quinn and you are the last one of my childhood tormentors to die.”

“So just kill me already.” His face was swollen from the tears of his screaming, “What do I have to live for?”

I smiled wide, “Exactly. You have nothing, Chrissy. Nothing left in this world and not even the faintest hope of vengeance.”

My bullets shattered his wrists next. Blood poured from his dozen  wounds, speckles splattered over the white walls. 

“Then end it.”

“I told you, I want to see how many times I can shoot you first.”

“Just get it over with, you fucking psychotic freak!”

A scowl overtook my features and I reloaded a second time. Then I shot his elbows and shoulders one at a time, punctuating each word with a bullet, “Don’t. Be. Rude.” It took me a second to think of the final word. “Asshole.”

His pain-filled cries were melodious. There was just something so satisfying about knowing that these were the last hours of Chris’s life. “I could leave you like  this, you know. It’s kind of what I did to Uncle Tom. He didn’t make it through the night. Do you think you would, Chrissy? Do you think you’d still be here waiting for me tomorrow morning?”

This time his scream wasn’t from pain. It was rage. It was brokenness. It was hate. “Fuck you, Harleen!”

I scowled deeper than before, my own rage bubbling beneath the surface of my skin. My own hatred an inferno barely encased behind my eyes. My voice was hard and dangerous, “My name. Is Harley.”

“Poor little Harleen Quinzel, broken little unwanted doll in the corner. You think anyone could ever love you?”

With a growl, I pulled the trigger and shot him in the stomach. But it didn’t slow his words, “Your own family didn’t want you. You were nothing as a kid and you’re nothing now.”

“You’re playing the same old tune, Chrissy, but the thing is, I’ve moved on to a whole new orchestra.” I shot him again before reloading. “The Joker loves me. He made me what I am today, made me to be his perfect mate. He took that little girl you broke and tossed aside and turned her into his Queen.”

“Useless, rotten, good for nothing.”

I laughed. Did he really think these old insults would do anything to me? Did he really think his opinion mattered in any way at all? For old time’s sake, I shot him again, “The only nothing here is you. I rule Gotham beside the wildest, most intriguing man anyone has ever known. And you are a speck on a wall. By the time I’m done with you, there won’t even be that. Nothing of you will remain. I’ll kill you, then my boys will dispose of your body, just as they did your precious baby girl. I’m pretty sure they dissolved her in lye.”

His bravado shattered and he resigned himself to weeping. Of course, that’s what he’d been doing. Trying to make me angry, trying to make me lash out.  So I’d kill him, get it over with. But he doesn’t know me anymore. He barely knew Harleen. He can’t manipulate me the way he did when we were kids. 

“Don’t worry, Chrissy-boy. I’m not going to leave you overnight. Your death is imminent and you’ll get to be with your family again. … In Hell, where you all belong.” This time I shot him in the chest and when he coughed blood spurted from his mouth. The monster in me was thrilled, enjoying the deep red that flowed from his wounds. I could hear her laughter from deep within, bubbling and rushing and reverberating through my bones. She filled my head and drowned out any other thoughts but fulfilling my cousin’s destiny. “Looks like I finally punctured one of your lungs. How many more bullets do you think you can take?”

It wasn’t much longer before his noises ceased completely and I knew he was dead. The last of my tormentors, the ringleader of our cousins, and he was finally gone. Now to finally move on to my little brother. 


	56. Chapter 56

J just grabbed me away from my journal to eat with him. We’re going out later to the Black Mask Club and he wanted some time alone together over a meal. We don’t always eat together, so it’s nice when he comes in, grabs me, and carries me to the table. He doesn’t use words to tell me he wants time with me. He finds me and takes me where he wants us to be. And I love it. I love that we don’t need words to understand each other. But I also love when we share our hearts and say everything that could ever be said. 

I will admit there was a part of me that was mildly annoyed because I was just about to start writing about Henry and that is  something I will want to relive many times. Of course, I didn’t mention that annoyance to Daddy. He wouldn’t have been impressed.

So let’s see. I watched Chris die. Then I went down to the holding cell where Henry was being kept. It was small, no bigger than your typical jail cell, with a cot and a toilet. How long had he been down here in this tiny room, wondering what was happening, where his parents were, and why his family had been quickly disappearing off the face of the map? I could have asked if I really cared, but it was more of a fleeting thought than anything else.

“Henry Joseph Nelson. My, my, my.” I walked through the door that had just been opened by one of the boys, “Look how you’ve grown! You must have been this big last time I saw you.” I held my hands a couple feet apart in front of me.

“You... You know me?” He was gangly. All knees and elbows; that stage where you can tell he hasn’t quite grown into himself yet. His eyes and face were red from crying, his hands cut up from banging on the door.

“ Of course, I do, Henry! We’re family.”

“Family? ... Who are you? What am I doing here? Where’s my mom and dad?”

“Those are very good questions, Henry. Yes, we are family. I’m your big sister.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t have a sister...”

Fire flashed over my brain, sizzling like bacon in a hot pan. I could feel the rage behind my eyeballs, the fury pouring down my throat. How could they have not ever mentioned me? How could they have hidden me from him when I’d still been living with Harold? How could he have grown to this stage without once ever hearing about me?

“I wish I could say I was surprised the family never told you about me. Those assholes liked to pretend I didn’t exist when I was still around.”

“I don’t understand.”

“How about I explain in simple terms so your tiny little brain can get it? Our dad raped my mom when she was 13. Dad went to jail because he was 19 and mama had me nine months later. Harold and Henrietta raised me because Dad was in jail, but they hated me.  So did everyone else in the family. For some reason, my being born was enough to make them despise me. I grew up with no love, no family, nothing. And you? You’re their little prince. You’ve been given everything in life and have had all of their love from before you were even born. You were just a baby when we met at Harold’s house and they tried to keep you as far away from me as they could. Like I was diseased and they had to protect you from me. Like I could taint you just by looking at you.”

Henry stared at me, eyes wide in a disbelieving shock, “My dad would never rape anybody!”

I sighed, rolling my eyes, “Oh, come  _ on _ , kid. What do you think I’m doing here? You think I grabbed some random preteen off the streets to tell my sad story to?  Whaddaya want, a DNA test?”

“Look, you’ve got the wrong person.”

“You mean I’m looking for another Henry Joseph Nelson?”

“Yeah.”

“Mother: Anne Kristen, Father: Joseph Vincent?”

“Yeah …"

“In Boston?”

“I just know my dad would never do anything like that.”

“Well, he did. Mama had me at 14 while he was rotting in jail. Hey, why don’t we pull up his arrest record?”

“You can do that?”

“Sure.” I held my hand out and he tentatively took it, following me from the room and out to the front, where his eyes boggled at the sight of so many men with guns. I told Iggy what I wanted and he quickly dug into the Massachusetts arrest records. “There it is, Henry. In black and white.”

“Joseph Nelson … Frances Quinzel … statutory rape? What’s statutory?”

“It means he was a grown adult and she was just a child. It means it doesn’t matter if she said yes, he was old enough to know he shouldn’t be messing with a kid.”

“So she said yes?”

I scowled down at him, my mouth in a thin line, “Not the point, you little shithead.”

“Were they in love?”

“You think it’s appropriate for a kid to date an adult? What if some grown woman tried to date you?”

“That would be awesome.” 

I rolled my eyes again, “You’re an idiot, kid. Either way, it doesn’t matter what the younger one thinks, it’s illegal and yes, people go to jail for it. Like dear old Dad.”

“But what about the rest of the family? Why would they hate you?”

I started guiding him back down the hall, toward the room where he would die, “I don’t really know. They blamed me for him going to jail. For ‘ruining his life.’ I guess it was easier to hate me than to admit that what he did was fucking disgusting.”

I walked him into the medieval torture room, gripping tighter on his hand when he stopped in the doorway.

“What the fuck?”

“Welcome to your new room, Henry. This is the last one you’ll ever see.”

He screamed, a strange sound when his voice cracked in the middle of it, and ripped his hand from mine before running away from me. I just leaned against the wall and checked my nails, disappointed with how much they had chipped already. My polish was perfect just this morning. Stupid Janus Cosmetics.  _ Why do I keep buying this garbage? _

Ollie brought Henry back into the room, carrying him as the boy fought and scrabbled to get loose. There was no breaking free from the mountain that was Ollie, though, and Henry was quickly strapped into the Chair of Torture. It looked like any old chair, except it was covered in spikes. Hundreds of spikes over the entire thing. Henry was snot-nosed sobbing by the time Ollie was done.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” I asked, slowly taking one step at a time before stopping in front of him, “Because of who you are, Henry. Because of what you represent.”

“What I represent?”

“I sliced through your mother for taking the life my mama should have lived. And you? You’re the life I should have gotten. You don’t deserve for those fucking demons to have given you love. You don’t deserve to have seen any good out of them. You don’t deserve a devoted father more than I did!”

“ So my mistake was being born?! Sounds kind of familiar, doesn’t it?”

“You know what, yes. They treated me like a mistake for being born. And yes, your mistake was being born into this family that tormented me my entire childhood. See, I’ve already killed most of them.”

“What?”

“You’re all that’s left. You and Dad. But he’s being saved for last.”

“You killed  _ everyone _ ?”

“Yep. Well, the main core. All your little cousins were killed off by my men. The big cousins I took care of myself.”

“What about my mom?”

“She made one very big mistake, Henry.”

“What? What did she do?”

“She married our dad. If she hadn’t done that, she wouldn’t have become a Nelson. And then I wouldn’t have needed to kill her.”

Big crocodile tears spilled over as his face crumpled again. He was sobbing when he asked, “You killed my mom?”

“Yep. I’m wiping out the Nelson clan. Dad’s being tortured right now with video footage of everyone’s deaths. In fact, I might even bring him in for a live viewing of yours.”

“I don’t  wanna die,” he wept.

“Of course not. Up  til now, you’ve lived a magical life. You haven’t had every member of your family treat you like a leper. You’ve enjoyed their love even when you lashed out at them in anger. You’ve remained golden boy even when you pitched a fit. You could do no wrong in their eyes. Simply because of the gift of not being me. You’re the one they wanted, of course you don’t want to die.”

He kept sobbing while I moved about the room, plucking up the items I wanted to use. It was hard to choose. I wanted something different for Henry. Something that I would always remember as uniquely his. The tongue tearers will always remind me of my grandparents. The blood eagle will always make me think of Jess. But what could I pick for Henry? Other than the Iron Chair, that is. 

There  was already drips of blood coming from the chair when I came back. Tiny little droplets letting me know that the spikes were doing their job. I thought about hitting him with my Good Night bat, letting those spikes drive deeper into him with each hit. But I decided against it. I also decided against bringing my father in for a live show. I didn’t want to have to deal with his incessant screaming at me to leave the boy alone, the way that Lester had yelled over Chelsea. I just wanted to enjoy every pain-filled shriek that was about to burst through those sloppy lips. He wasn’t just snot-nosed, now he was drooling as well. Definitely the baby of those I’ve tortured.

“Please don’t kill me.”

“Oh, I’m not just  gonna kill  ya .” I thought of J back in the Asylum, “I’m  gonna hurt  ya … really, really bad.”

And then I clicked on the chef-sized blow torch. His screams raised in pitch and he started to fight against the straps holding him, which only caused the spikes to dig about in his skin and made him scream even more. 

“Please, please!” the more he struggled, the more blood I saw drip down from his seat.

I turned to one of the cameras and giggled, “Are you getting this?”

Ollie glanced out the door and down the hall, receiving some visual cue before giving me a thumbs up – every inch of the room was being recorded for posterity. My “Father” would be getting a good view of everything that happened to his precious baby boy. 

I knelt down next to the chair and proceeded to bring the flame close to his left foot. Then I slowly moved it down the length of the outside edge of his foot, hearing the sizzle of burning flesh, followed so quickly by the stench. 

“Ahh, AHHH, WAAAAGGGHHHHH” went my little brother. He couldn’t form words anymore. Just incoherent screeches of pain.

I danced the blue flame around each of his toes and across the top of his foot before moving to the arch. Then I reached over and hit all the same spots on his right foot.

“See, you have to keep moving the fire, like this,” I spoke as if he was actually listening instead of wailing, “or the nerve endings burn away. Then you wouldn’t feel anything, and that just wouldn’t do at all.”

I had to stick to just his feet at first. I didn’t want to cut away his clothes, but I also didn’t want to just straight up set him on fire. No, this needed to be a controlled burn. 

I moved the blow torch away from him, then clicked it off and just let him cry. Let him really tire himself out. When he started to form words again, begging me to please just let him go home, I smiled brightly at him.

“Did you know that the fingertips are some of the most sensitive places on the human body?”

“No, please.  _ Please _ .”

I clicked the torch back on and proceeded to slowly make my way over every inch of both of his hands. His voice-cracking screams took on the tone of someone who was starting to get dehydrated, and I noticed that his crocodile tears had slowed. 

“Hey, Ollie!” 

“Yeah, boss?”

I turned the torch off and gestured to him, “I need the kid’s shirt off.”

Ollie left my eyeline but quickly came back with sharp scissors and proceeded to cut open the tee shirt and cut off all he could before going back to the doorway.

“Now, little prince, you get to be marked like your mama was.”

His voice was hoarse when he spoke, “What .. do you … mean?”

“I told you I cut her up. I carved some words into her, so she would spend her last moments knowing exactly who she was.”

“Please...”

“Aren’t you done asking that yet, Henry? Haven’t you gotten it by now? There’s nothing you could say that would make this stop.”

Goddammit, kid called my bluff. I don’t know where he got the stroke of genius, but he played a damn good hand.

“I ... love you.” his voice was so quiet.

“What did you say?”

“I love you.” See? A  _ damn _ good hand. … For a little shit he had a pretty good understanding of how to zero in on emotional needs left behind by trauma. He offered me the love of a family member. He offered me the one thing I had never had in my entire life. He offered me the one thing that might have actually gotten me to let him go.

Instead, I burst out laughing. “You love me?”

“You’re … my sister.” he tried to lick his lips but his screaming really had dried out his mouth.

I cackled even more, “Oh, you’re smart, kid. I  gotta hand it to you, that’s a good play.”

“I always wanted … a sister.”

“I’m sure you did, kiddo, I’m sure you did. But me? No one hopes for a sister like me. Cuz I murder my family. It’s in the nature they brewed in me.”

“I love you.” 

“I don’t like liars.” My finger depressed the button and blue flame spurted from the blow torch. I didn’t give his mind a second to adjust, I just brought it down over his stomach and burned the word “ _ Prince”  _ into him. It was a damn good hand, and it might have worked on a different day, but in the end, mine was better. When it came to our game, I was the only winner there would be.

Henry’s weeping was the music I had been longing for. All I ever wanted from him was to revel in his misery. This certainly counted. I think I’d finally pushed him past his limit. There was no change to his weeping when I squeezed fresh lemon over his chest and sprinkled salt over the burns. No change when I hopped on his lap, digging the spikes in so deeply it would take more than one of our boys to get the body off the Chair of Torture. His screaming had reached a point where nothing could make it worse. 

“You sound so thirsty, Henry...” I stepped behind him and grabbed the plastic container, “Let me help you with that.”

I wanted to yank his head back, but the chair prevented it. Instead, I had to get creative. I used a tube attached to a funnel to pour the  Draino down his throat. He gurgled and foamed red spittle, coughing at first before a low groan came from his chest. 

Once I was sure he was dead I tossed the bottle and the funnel across the room and turned to the closest camera, winking at the lens. I held up two middle fingers and put them where my dimples would be, twisting them back and forth.

“Congratulations, Dad. You’re the sole survivor. The last member of the Nelson line.” I stood straighter, a wicked smile on my face, “You’re all alone in the world now, Papa. Just like I was. Funny thing is, now it’s _you_ who’s alone with _me_ as _your_ tormentor. It’s just you and me, Dad. And you won’t be around much longer.” I blew a kiss and stepped back, leaving the room so the last frames would be nothing but Henry’s corpse.


	57. Chapter 57

It was your typical night at the Black Mask Club. J sat stoically, watching the crowd with mild interest. Until I got up from the table to dance, and then his eyes were on me the rest of the night. We actually left together, instead of me being sent home with Frankie early, which made me happy. I was pretty drunk but I guess not too annoying? I just love getting to be with him. 

I’m supposed to go back to my studio today, let my father stew in the latest of his home movies, but part of me doesn’t want to go. Not because I don’t want to be in the air, I definitely do. But I’d rather just spend the day with a friend. I decided Frankie and I were going to spend a day at the movies, eating junk food and watching crappy matinees. 

And what a day of movies it was! We watched this funny thing with Keira Knightly and some awful superhero flick with Chris Evans. Then a drama starring Gary Oldman. I bought out the theaters so we could yell at the screens and throw popcorn during stupid parts. I even tipped the staff a Benjamin each for the inevitable cleanup because I was feeling generous. We had a blast.

But by the time we’d gotten back to the penthouse, I was still feeling a little out of sorts. I didn’t know what was going on until her face flashed in my mind’s eye. That’s when I sighed and pouted and pitched an internal fit over missing her at all. But I dutifully pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I stopped over her name. I paused, wondering if this was a good idea at all, since she hadn’t even been the one to give me her number. I’d had Frankie find it for me. I knew it probably wasn’t a good idea but couldn’t stop myself from pressing  _ Call _ .

It rang once, twice, and then she answered. “Hello?”

I took a breath, “Hiya, Red.”

“Who is... Harley?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Well … I had Frankie get it for me. Since I didn’t have a phone when we met?”

“Shocking, you had a man do something for you.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Red.”

“I’m surprised you’d even think of me after running back to your  _ daddy _ .” She said the word with such disdain. It was clear she didn’t like me and Puddin’ together. Or maybe it was that he was a man at all.

“I told you that I loved  ya , Ivy. That’s not  gonna change.”

“Sure it will, kid.”

“Don’t say that. Look, those hours at your place meant a lot to me. And I know they meant a lot to you too. How many other people have you vaccinated against your living situation?”

She huffed, “You’re not the first.”

“I’m not?”

“No.” But I could tell she was lying by the pause before her next words, “I haven’t wanted anyone out here, why would I bother with mixing up more shots?”

“There’s nothing wrong with us being friends, right, Red?”

“Why would there be anything wrong with us being friends?”

I sighed with relief, “Good. Because I think I need a ladies’ night.”

“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can just drop in on me whenever you feel like it.”

“Sure, it does! And it goes the same way back to you. You can just drop in on me whenever you like.”

“I’m not so sure your  _ Puddin’ _ would agree with that statement.”

“Ok, so maybe you call first.” I laid down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, phone plastered to my ear the way it had been when I was a teenager, “And maybe I have to meet you out somewhere. But whenever you need me, I’ll be there for you, Red. I promise.”

“You know I don’t have a lot of friends, Harley.”

“I know.” 

“I can’t have you making promises you aren’t going to keep.”

“Of course, I’m  gonna keep ‘ em . Why wouldn’t I keep ‘ em ?”

“Because if I actually rely on you and you don’t show up, it could mean my death.”

“Oh, you’re  talkin ’ a heist gone wrong  kinda situation, aren’tcha?”

“Yes, Harley. A heist gone wrong situation.” I could hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. 

“Well, look, if we plan a heist I’m definitely  gonna be there.”

“I think I just … expected a different turn out when you were here last.”

“I know we were having a fight, but did you really think I was walking out on him? I told you I knew we’d end up back together.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Hey, why didn’t you believe me, Red? Why did you expect a different turn out when I straight up told you that I was going to be going back to him?”

“Because I expected better of you! Once I heard how he was treating you I assumed it would be clear to you that you deserve so much better!”

I laughed, “Better than  Puddin ’? No such thing.”

“Be serious, Harl. He hurts you. He did something to you so that you can’t have children?”

“Not  _ fully _ his fault.”

“Partially is enough! And why don’t you care that he’s always hurting you?”

“Because I love it.” I shrugged. “Pain is pleasure.”

“Pain is pleasure? What the fuck does that mean?”

“It’s something he taught me. Pain is pleasure, pleasure is pain. They are interwoven. I can’t cum without feeling waves of pain along with it. I can’t feel pain without getting off on it. I let him hit me because I love every second. It feels good to feel pain.”

“That’s utterly ridiculous.”

“No, it’s just different to you.”

“Are you saying you have no use for tenderness?”

“Of course not! He’s incredibly tender.”

She started laughing then, “The Joker? Tender?”

“He is with me!” I thought of the way he’d rubbed oils into my ass cheeks after getting spanked heartily, how he’d washed me in the tub after my long punishment. His aftercare was always loving and tender.

“When are you going to see the light, girl?”

“I love him, Ivy. He brought me joy when I was living in emptiness.”

“Just because he’s done some good things doesn’t mean he’s good for you.”

“And just because he’s not you doesn’t mean he’s bad for me!”

There was a long stretch of silence and I knew I’d pushed one too many of her buttons. “I don’t want to fight.”

“Oh, of course you don’t, Harley.”

“I wish you knew him better.”

“Better than having him show up at my house with dozens of men planning to break in and murder me? Yeah, I think I wish I knew him a little better than that too.”

For a moment I thought about bringing the two of them together over dinner, but quickly realized what a disastrous plan that was. He already hated her for trying to keep me away from him. To then tell him that he needed to sit down with her and convince her he had good qualities? Yeah, no way was that going to fly. And to get her to sit down and actually take the time to get to know him, well I didn’t see that happening either. 

“Can we meet up? Get a drink?”

“Not tonight, Harl.”

“Please, Red?”

“Look, give me a few more days. Call me back after the weekend? We can go out Monday night.”

“Which will make Sunday date night. Perfect.”

I could practically hear her rolling her eyes again, “Yeah. Great. I’ll see you in a couple days, Harl.”

“Good night, Red.”


	58. Chapter 58

How long is long enough when it comes to torture? Because the monster in me wants to see my father’s blood splattered all over the walls. But the other part of me knows that he hasn’t suffered enough yet. He’s barely seen Chris’s end by this point. Never mind Henry’s. If anything, I have to at least wait for next week, right? Wait … a week? Is that even long enough to really torture the man with the death of his perfect baby boy? I should definitely let it go longer than a week, right? But even then, how long do I let it go? Just how broken can I actually make the man and how long will it take him to get there? Can I drive him mad through repeated  watchings of his loved ones being brutally murdered, even taunted before their deaths? Is this culmination of my work even enough of a twist of the knife in his back? What more can I do at this point? Beyond his upcoming physical torture, I mean. I still hadn’t decided what I was going to do for that. I thought of mixing up the various torture practices I had used up until this point, but part of me still wanted something all his own. One specific thing that would make me think of him the rest of my days. As to what that is, I still haven’t decided. But whatever it is, it’s going to have to wait for next week.

It’s hard to do. My original plan was to go to the Toybox yesterday and play with Dad, but no, I need him to stew for just a little longer. So, it was back to the studio and work with Triss and Jenni. Jenni had some new tricks to teach me, which I latched onto right away. I melt into the silks when I dance in the air; they become a part of me. And my teachers are just as graceful on the silks. They make me so happy to work with them.

They started suggesting doing some tandem work, but even though I trusted them to teach me, I didn’t trust them enough to work in that way with them.  So, I turned them down and instead requested we work in the special area of the studio – the one made up to look like Gotham streets. It was basically a well-painted obstacle course, but it helped me keep limber for leaping around the city at night. 

I don’t know what it is about them that makes them such joys to be around. They’re always smiling, always encouraging. But it never feels fake. Even though I walk out of the studio knowing that they’ve just gotten paid to spend time with me, and knowing that we aren’t friends but more student and trainer, it still feels like I’ve spent my time with two trusted souls. I wouldn’t exactly want to be friends with them, but they’re nice to be around. That certainly makes my time with them easier. I’d hate to have to constantly break in new trainers because the old ones didn’t work out. But J found two amazing girls right off the bat. I’ll have to thank him for finding the perfect people for me.

Last night it was back at the Smile and Grin. I performed a different kind of dancing and even took over one of the booths for a little bit. I danced with Ariana again, that was fun. After getting thoroughly tipsy I took over for Benny behind the bar and made everyone a Harley Quinn. Of course, no one asked for a Harley Quinn. They would come up to the bar, place their order, and I would make them my special drink. The best part was, no one could say no! Who was going to refuse a drink called the Harley Quinn,  _ from _ Harley Quinn,  _ in  _ the Joker’s club? No one! Especially not when she adds “on the house” as she passes it over. Eventually, Benny heard what I was saying and tried to take his job back. I became obstinate and told him to let me do what I was doing.

I don’t fully remember but I’m pretty sure Frankie had me over his shoulder at one point, carrying me fireman style. But was that before or after he held my hair back in the alley so I could puke?

I sent a text to Frankie first thing this morning, demanding aspirin and one of Sal’s miracle sandwiches. He brought me the sandwich, pain pills, orange juice, apple juice, and the frothiest latte he could find. Which basically consisted of him insisting they “put cappuccino froth on the latte, that’s how she likes it!”

It took me a little while to get over this morning’s hangover.  _ I really  _ _ gotta _ _ start drinking water in between my shots. _ But when I finally did, Frankie drove me back to my studio. The girls never said a word about how late I was. I wondered if I was their only student and if they were paid on a per diem basis or if they were given a salary by J to be my personal trainers. I suppose it doesn’t really matter. No matter how he’s got it set up,  these two work with me whenever I feel like going to my studio. And that’s perfect.

Frankie brought me lunch and dinner and eventually insisted that I have to go home and get ready to go out with Daddy. Once again, there’s someone due to come into the club and give his respects. At least I’ve heard of Monster T before, even if I haven’t met him yet. I know exactly what I’m going to wear too – my new gold and black diamonds mini dress. I think my new gold Harley loves Joker necklace was just picked up yesterday and they will go perfect together. But now I need to put away my journal and finish my hair and makeup. Have to look perfect if I’m going to be out on Puddin’s arm.


End file.
